


The Side of the Angels

by CarolStanvers



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avengers Tower, Ceiling Vent Clint Barton, Death, Fluff and Angst, Loki (Marvel) Does What He Wants, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Murder, Post-Avengers (2012), Protective Clint Barton, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Trauma, accidentally murdered her whole family, it's okay it was an accident, loki's okay with it, the dog is a pretty important character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:20:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 41,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26715121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarolStanvers/pseuds/CarolStanvers
Summary: After the events of the attack on New York, the Avengers finally detain Loki for his crimes. The only problem is, he brought in a stray off the street to help do his bidding. And Rory's certain she was doing the right thing. The Avengers are pretty sure Loki played with her mind, and naturally, Clint empathises with her. How were they to know what really happened?
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

# Loki's Alliance

"I'm going to need you to turn that prisoner over to me," a gruff voice spoke with the utmost formality. It almost hypnotised the god into handing the restrained girl over to him. Instead, Thor held on a little tighter to her arms and turned to the rest of the team whose gazes were all shifting around the room, avoiding eye contact. No one wanted to have to deal with the consequences of their little war. Their consequence, in this case, being the child Loki had gotten his hands on during his time in Germany.

The girl in question jutted her chin towards the tall, well built man who watched her with a cold, stern expression. His eyes were filled with greed and hunger, aimed completely at her. Regardless of this, she matched his expression before turning to see Tony finally meeting eyes with Thor, the person holding her back. Her head raised to her side to see the dark haired god with a metal mouthpiece. He rolled his eyes.

"I'm afraid this one's not yours to take," Tony replied confidently as he stepped towards the black-shirted man. His Black Sabbath shirt provided shelter to the arc reactor glowing in his chest. He hid his pain well, after all he'd been through in that war, he was surprised he was still on his feet.

The Shield agent shifted his glare towards him, biting back a low growl. His irritation never ceased, despite looking upon the billionaire himself. "Loki, I understand," he replied loudly, pointing towards the menacing man whose eyes were gleaming with smugness. "But _her_." He retracted his arm and pointed it once more to the small, feeble teenager beside him. "She's coming with us."

It wasn't often that the Shield agent had to put up such a fight to get his way. Shield was used to taking what they needed with no expectation to explain themselves. With the Avengers, it was a completely different story. And he was the poor sucker who'd drawn the short straw of having to haggle with them. It was clear this menacing child was in the wrong. She was being restrained by Thor, lined up next to Loki, a criminal. That made her nothing less. She was an accomplice through and through - she should be under Shield's surveillance. He needed to take her, and he wouldn't back down without a fight.

"No, she's not," Nat argued sternly, eyes firm and still. Clint nodded beside her, assessing the girl's nature and empathising with what she'd been through. Sending her off to Shield wasn't going to aid her in any way shape or form. What she needed was a good, long sleep and some time to recover. Not have her brain picked at and played with. Clint, especially, knew there was something up with Shield lately.

As the agent opened his mouth to protest once more, Bruce moved towards the girl to chaperone her away from the dispute. After just turning back from the Hulk, he was looking for any excuse to get out of the spotlight. He stepped over to Thor, sending him a nervous smile and reaching out to the child's arm hanging behind her back limply. He slipped his hand around her, and Thor let go and moved his concentration back to the agent who was now spitting violent insults at Tony like a feral cat.

Bruce was still tripping over his guilt of the destruction he'd caused in New York. Despite the fact that the alien army had caused most of it, he'd added a large dent in himself. He was a simple man. He liked the quiet and isolation, an introvert through and through. Social interaction every now and then was a good reminder of why he liked to be alone, but he knew when enough was enough. Taking the girl out of the situation was his best bet of removing himself too. What he wanted was the cool silence in a far off room. And he bet that's what she needed too.

The protesting child was escorted away by the scientist. She only came up to his shoulder, so despite her reluctance to follow, he had easy control of their route. Her entangled brown hair fell across her face and in her eyes, blocking her line of sight, leaving her stumbling along to Bruce's strides. "This is completely unnecessary," she spat, swatting her hair over her head so she could get a good view of her guide. Her round brown eyes glared into his soft ones. He repelled all of her hate, seeing her as nothing more than a naive child.

"In what way is this unnecessary?" Bruce questioned her, raising a scruffy dark eyebrow at the child. He witnessed the hesitance in her eyes and took the opportunity to explain himself further. "Not _only_ did you take the side of a man _clearly_ in the wrong - you helped him commit murder, for _two_ days!" he declared in a hushed whisper like a middle aged woman talking to her friend about the lesbians next door. "If you ask me, this isn't necessary _enough._ "

For the first time in his presence, she hadn't a thing to say. Her quick wit couldn't work fast enough. She was speechless. Her head hung low and her bottom lip puckered. "You're just looking at it from the wrong perspective," she mumbled under her breath. When he side eyed her to express his intrigue, her voice grew louder and eyes brighter. "You see -"

"Let me guess," he cut in impatiently, "he used that staff to control your mind." Surprisingly, his voice was anything but sarcastic - in fact he even seemed slightly sympathetic.

She raised an eyebrow, adjusting her wrist in his loosening grip. At the look on his face, she noticed he wasn't joking around. Thinking for a second, she debated telling him the truth. This option sounded easier, simpler to understand and take her side. Lying might get her free. Lying might get her back to Loki. Lying might get her out.

She nodded.

In actual fact, Rory had no idea what this stranger was getting at. He seemed trustworthy, with his messy grey hair and soft brown eyes. To her, Bruce was Winnie the Pooh's long lost American brother. He was warm and welcoming, but a stuttering, cautious mess all the same and she couldn't help but assume his main purpose in life was trying to get honey without disturbing the bees. It was refreshing to be in the presence of an adult who wasn't so power hungry. She had a lot of that at home. Her parents, her aunt and uncle, even some of her teachers. She'd developed a keen eye for seeing it. 

Bruce caught her gaze and nodded softly, pity in his eyes. He'd seen what Barton had to go through - it couldn't be easy - especially for a child. "Did you leave your family back in Germany?" he breathed quietly, squeezing her wrist for support. The world fell quiet. The corridors grew cold. The air faded blue.

And through a hushed whisper, she spoke, "I killed them." Her eyes glistened with tears and she purposely looked away from him, chewing her lip to distract her. "They tried to stop him from taking me and he made me -" she choked on her tears and hunched forward, hiding beneath her hair. Bruce pulled her closer to his side with his other arm, taking her near as they continued walking. She tried to hold back the memories.

"Is there anyone else we can call? Does anyone know where you are?" Bruce led her into a bare white room and she stepped in slowly, stopping awkwardly in the middle whilst he shut the door. He turned around, waiting for an answer as she hugged her chest, thinking.

"Dave," she answered, managing to subdue her emotion.

"Dave?" Bruce stepped closer, waiting for her to elaborate. Her eyes slowly met his and she gave him a half smile.

"Dave MyCat."

"Your cat's called Dave?"

She shook her head in confusion. "No that's his last name."

"Dave MyCat. Is he your uncle?"

"My doberman."

"Your delivery man?" he asked, mishearing her.

Shaking her head, she spoke louder. "My _doberman_."

He blinked, wondering what on Earth she was thinking. "You've got a _doberman_...called Dave..." he sighed, "...Dave Mycat."

She smirked in humour, "I thought it was funny." Realising her mistake, she quickly formed her grin back to a frown and felt another tear slip from her eye. "Dave's the only family I've got left."

Dave was the family pet she had back in England. He'd been with her thirteen years, through thick and thin. They were close as they could get. Despite him being a 'family dog', she was the one who'd most often feed and walk him, comfort him when he was sick and hold him back when he saw a cat. She trained him well, and he learned things quickly. He could shut doors, get her food from the kitchen, and even put up with her dressing him up in human clothes. It killed her every time they had to leave him in a border when they went on holiday. She missed him terribly. 

Bruce shut his jaw and nodded softly. He looked around the room and noticed the solitary chair in the corner. "Why don't you take a seat? I'll um, I'll see what I can -" he hesitated, "Dave can't take care of -" he cut himself off again, noticing the child still in disarray and attempting to be as kind as he could. "You've got no other family? No Aunt or Uncle?" he asked.

"My only aunt and uncle died." She thought for a second, "I used to have grandparents but they died. It's just me and Dave now."

He sighed and nodded his head, leaning back out the doorway. "Okay, I'll talk to Tony, see what the next step is from here. Sit tight." He watched her nod before closing the door on her in search of Stark.

Stress knotted in Bruce's brain. As he paced back through the corridor, he considered how much easier it would've been if they'd let Shield take her. The echoes of his footsteps disappeared as he grew lost in his mind. What were the Avengers going to do with a child with no family? Who would take her now that this war is over? Bruce wasn't even sure they could trust her yet. She'd been Loki's accomplice, Clint said he remembered seeing her in Germany, following Loki around like a shadow. His heart told him she had to be possessed, but a small voice begged to differ.

He found the other five Avengers in distress after dealing with Loki and his mess. Tony was in the corner with his head in his hand, nursing the pain in his mind. Although, upon meeting Bruce's eyes, he composed himself and approached him with a cocky smile. "How's our girl in question?" he greeted him brightly, leaving nothing but a deep sigh to escape Bruce's throat.

"The only family she's got left is Dave," he said grimly, a knowing look in his eyes.

"Dave?"

"MyCat."

"Your cat?"

"No, her cat."

"Her cat's called Dave?"

"No, her dog's called Dave. Dave MyCat."

" _Your_ cat's called Dave?"

"No." He sighed and rubbed his temples. "She's got a dog, first name: 'Dave', second name: 'MyCat'."

Tony smirked, finally understanding the joke. "Funny kid." He thought for a moment, brown eyes swimming deep in Bruce's, "that's the only family she's got?"

He nodded weakly, "she claims Loki mind controlled her to kill her parents."

His face grew stone cold of emotions and he stopped looking so deeply into his eyes. He seemed to look through Bruce for a second before he collected himself. "And you believe her?"

Again, he nodded. "She seemed sorrowful enough." He watched Tony's eyes grow quiet and his sympathy grew. "Tony, you need to talk to her."

This time, he nodded. "You're right," he stepped by him as Nat watched from the corner, arms folded over her chest. She seemed skeptical. Clint, beside her, seemed quite the opposite.

Tony walked the halls alone, his mind racing faster than his feet. This was not only a child he was about to face - but an orphan. A girl with no one in the world - well, except Dave. But it hit far too close to home. Not the Dave thing. He'd been made an orphan far too early and on bad terms. But at least he hadn't been the one to take their lives. He couldn't imagine what this girl was going through. That was, if Bruce was right...

Stark had never been one to trust so easily. And age wouldn't make a difference. They knew nothing of this girl's background and it unsettled him. It was as if she'd just appeared out of thin air. He remembered the way she fought when they tried to restrain her back in Germany. She'd managed to run from them and join Clint in hiding before Loki came back in New York. Clint was the one who finally grabbed her, but she writhed and kicked like a dog with rabies. Bruce seemed convinced she was just a kid in the wrong place at the wrong time. But Tony had his doubts.

Within the quiet room, a creak resonated in the walls - the only noise in the air. Tony took a quick peek around after realising the door had been left unlocked. Bruce had put his trust in the wrong person. He sighed as he scanned the room for a child who wasn't there and turned around with a face full of displeasure. "JARVIS," he called out to his AI, "search the building for a runaway child. Make sure the rest of the team know to look out for the little jail-breaker."

"Yes sir."

He continued down the hall, waiting for reply whilst the rest of the Avengers began to search high and low.

Nat and Clint searched the main floor, knowing it was the largest and most likely place for a small kid to hide. Bruce wandered the floor above, doubting he'd find her there but deciding it was worth a look. Steve scanned the floor below the main, where all the technology was. There was a small chance this kid was a spy for the government, trying to get information on them. He wasn't about to let that happen. 

Thor, on a gut feeling, raced to his brother's holding cell. His heart raced at the idea of her breaking him out. If she was still under his spell, she'd try anything to release him. And the last thing Thor wanted was his younger brother causing a second wave of destruction over his girlfriend's home planet. 

He found the girl peeping through the small window of the door, communicating to the god quite easily, despite the soundproof walls. He thought it best to ambush the child, leave less options for escape. He crept forward, easily dismissed with Loki's distractions. His brother caught eye of him, but assessed the situation quickly and knew immediately there was no easy way for her to outrun him. Instead, he locked eyes with him and sighed, instantly bringing his presence to the attention of the teenager, who slowly swung around to notice the god inches away from her.

"Shit," she mumbled, turning to the side and pushing on the ground with her foot as hard as she could. Not fast enough. Thor leaned forward with ease, and without looking, snatched her wrist and pulled her back. She fell into his hold. Her head could've hit a brick wall, it wouldn't have hurt any less. She almost turned around and asked him what he put in his protein shakes. He assisted her back to the main room, where the rest of the Avengers met up with him. 

"There's our little fugitive." Tony shot a forced grin at the child who glared back at him. It didn't take her too long to realise she was in the same position she came in. It was clear who the winner of this game was. A frown pulled at her lips.

"You weren't exactly keeping me locked up in there, were you?" she tested, narrowing her bright eyes at the man.

"We were _supposed_ to be." Tony looked over to Bruce who pulled a sheepish smile.

"Why?"

Natasha, who's been watching the girl for a while to try and get a read on her, answered confidently, "because we don't know who you are or whose side you're on. And it's a good thing we didn't trust you because Thor found you trying to help Loki escape." She didn't want to trust her. Something about this entire situation just seemed off.

Clint folded his arms after seeing the child's expression falter. "So she's got a small case of Stockholm Syndrome. It's nothing we can't fix. She's still getting over the whole mind-control thing - she's just a kid." He turned to his best friend Nat desperately, but she seemed unconvinced by his approach.

Rory looked at the man and recognised his face, although his eyes were a different colour now. She furrowed her eyebrows but dropped her head back down to her feet. Flashbacks of earlier rushes through her head. Clint had already helped her out when she was following Loki's orders. It took her a long time to understand why he was now on the other side of the fight.

"That is if she's telling the truth." Tony narrowed his eyes at the brown haired girl who turned away. Her purple converse turned to face Clint. She already felt a connection to him.

"Why would I lie?" she expressed halfheartedly.

Bruce finally pitched in after listening for a while. "Why would any person in their right mind kill their parents? She's right Tony, we should trust her." He turned to the man he was talking to with such certainty, he stepped back.

The orphan flinched at Bruce's words. He was right, why would anyone in their right mind kill their parents? It was savage, something out of a psychotic movie. Maybe she wasn't in her right mind. A shrill scream rang in the distance. Hot blood fled to her ears. Something pounded the inside of her head.

"Thank you! What she needs right now is someone she can trust. How can she trust us if we don't trust her?"

"Dave trusts me," she cut in.

"Don't talk to me about your cat," Tony snapped impatiently.

"Dog," she and Bruce said in unison, avoiding eye contact with each other. Everyone else in the room seemed to roll their eyes and turn away.

The billionaire wafted his hand at her dismissively, turning his attention back to Clint. He gestured back to the girl over his shoulder with a casual flare, "you want to trust her? After what she just did? Are you out of your mind!"

"I can hear you, you know?"

"Shut up!"

Clint glanced over to the girl whose jaw snapped shut. He nodded gently. "She's been pushed around as Loki's little rag doll for so long - just give her a chance to find her bearings," he explained softly, solemn eyes glowing over hers. A bright light seemed to shine over him as the brunette looked at him once more.

"Or maybe she's been doing this of her own free will," Tony argued. Devil's horns almost sprouted out of his head. He reminded her of her father. Her eye twitched.

Steve stepped forward, arms folded over his chest, a stone cold expression on his face. "Or we could just give her a chance to explain herself," he debated quietly, scanning the room full of familiar faces before turning back to the girl. "What's your name, doll?"

She looked to him with glistening brown eyes, the low hum of the air vent whirring at the back of her mind. "Rory," she answered lightly. "Rory Wolfe."


	2. Chapter 2

# The Babysitters

"I truly wish you didn't have to put us in this position, Loki," Thor uttered sorely to his careless brother. He leaned against the wall of Loki's cell, arms folded over his chest defensively, hair draping over his shoulders and face. The rocky look in his eyes left Loki battling an avalanche of guilt, but masked it well with a bitter smile.

"I haven't put you in any sort of position, _brother_ ," he mocked resentfully, eyes like paper around Thor's rock. The smile tugged a little higher on his left side and allowed the distrust to fill the atmosphere around them. "All this." He gestured to the plain room around him, "this was of your own doing." He watched Thor's eyes narrow hatefully and turned away for dramatic tension. "I was doing _fine_ without you." He paced down the length of the floor. "Asgard was prospering, Odin was, _well_ , out of the way and I was on my way to broadening our kingdom all the way to Midgard. The only thing that could possibly go wrong was you and your petty little team of freaks getting in my way," he hissed.

"Oh?" Thor asked, unfazed, "and what of Rory? What has she to do with any of this?"

Loki stopped pacing, furrowed his eyebrows and turned to his brother. With a pit of doubt in his stomach, he pulled his lip. "What? The _girl_?" he queried, failing to understand why his brother was focusing on something so insignificant. The silence confirmed it. Loki leaned to the side in nonchalance. "That puny mortal has nothing to do with any of this. I was simply using her as a proxy - someone to do my bidding." He looked negligently over to his brother, shrugging at the thought of the girl. "Interchangeable, truly. It could've been anyone. Pity to use a child but she had such heart," he thought for a moment, considering it. "Where is she now? Dead?" The look on his face expressed carelessness, but even he couldn't completely rid of his curiosity for the child. She was an enigma. 

Thor clenched his jaw, steam pouring from his ears. He kept silent, containing his emotions before finally taking a breath and answering calmly and in a low voice. "No," he growled through a clenched jaw, "she's under our protection. Your foul tricks can't penetrate her mind now," he warned. At this point, they'd both stopped moving, just staring directly into each other's brightly sparkling eyes. Their heads hung low and shoulders hunched. Clearly neither of them were too comfortable in their company.

Loki chuckled maliciously and shook his head to ease the air around them. "Why so tense? It's not as though I can flee these walls. Your precious little midgardian child is safe from my harm - not that I'd exactly be targeting her if I got out. Honestly, aren't you going a little overboard with this? I'm not a monster - I wouldn't -" The humorous light in his eyes dulled down when he noticed his brother's stare maintained. " _Oh_." He stopped smiling, "unless that's how I'm seen now. As the monster that parents tell their children about at night. That's how you truly see me?" A pained expression ran across his eyes like an infection.

Thor reached for the door, ignoring his brother's emotional baggage. "I'll always see you as my brother, Loki. But I can't control others' perceptions of you." With that, he closed the door and marched back into the main room, where Tony and Steve were talking, ignoring Loki's blatant, desperate cries.

"He cares little for her." Thor eyed the child, but his body faced Tony. He switched his gaze back up, a stone cold glare in his eyes like he was attempting to hide emotion, "he called her _interchangeable_."

Rory glanced up at him, her head cocking to the side, "inter-what?"

"Disposable," Clint chimed in, and upon seeing her reaction, tried to add some positivity, "it's a good thing. Means he won't be going after you again."

She clenched her jaw. " _Disposable_ ," she muttered under her breath, and with fire, in her mind she whispered, _I'll show him disposable_.

"Well, that settles it." Tony sauntered forward casually, a soft shrug of his shoulders. With a firm hand he patted her back. "Loki's done with her. I say she's trustworthy enough."

The rest of them seemed to nod in agreement, some more than others. She glanced around at them without expression, wondering. That word seemed to circle in her brain, repeating itself again and again until it started to make her eye twitch. _Disposable_.

"So, what comes next?" Rory queried as the rest of the team filed out of the room back to their own floors. She watched, sinking at the bottom of the ocean in the large space around her. Nothing seemed supporting enough to lean on and the air didn't want to stay around for long. She leaned back an inch, searching for something to connect with. Tony turned to her reluctantly and she watched him with a rock in her stomach. 

"Kid with no family, no friends. How old are you, fifteen? I bet you don't even know where you are right now," he replied negligently, shoving his hands into his pockets and raising his eyebrows at the girl. His chin pointed down so his eyes could dig a little further into her fragile, breaking ones. It caused his shoulders to hunch forward and his neck to bend, causing Rory to feel just a little more out of place, like an insect under a glass.

She stepped back an inch. With an ounce of bravery, she narrowed her eyes and spoke up. "Sixteen." He snorted and she shunned away once more. 

With a click of his tongue, he thought for a moment. "Let's see. I'll get JARVIS to call up the child services, get up a file on you..." He glanced at her, "you seem like a good kid, you'll probably have a new family soon. I mean, you're gonna need therapy after all that." He watched her face fall and she somehow morphed into a chihuahua puppy, absolutely terrified of everything. Pity began to crawl its way through his mind and he looked away once more, stopping himself from getting attached. There was no way he could deal with a child around the Tower. _Absolutely no way_. He had enough things to deal with, _and what would Pepper say? No. It's not an option_.

"So I'll just..." He found himself having to force his words out, "get that done..." He turned around to stare out the window, away from the child's helpless face. "JARVIS!" he called in a louder tone, desperate now, "call up the child services, see how soon they can get here. Tell them it's _urgent_." 

Rory watched him in terror, heart racing as she listened to what he had to say. She'd end up in foster care. She'd never get out. _And all of the people and the pitiful looks and the therapy and the speaking_ ; the thought of it alone became overwhelming. This man in front of her couldn't wait to chuck her out, she could see it, she could _hear_ it. He wanted her gone _urgently_ ; it wasn't exactly boosting her ego. Her heart caught in her throat and her body began to tremble where she stood, despite the warmth of the room.

Tony turned around with his hand on the back of his head, trying everything to avoid her gaze. She just looked so defenseless, he wanted to wrap her up in a blanket and give her a giant hug. So he took a few steps back and nodded, giving himself a pep talk in his head. "Okay." He clenched his jaw, "you can stay in the living room while you wait."

"Sir, the agency will be here in approximately one hour," JARVIS announced softly over the speakers, leaving Tony to relax a little.

"Good." He turned back to Rory, "it's just this way. You can put on a movie."

### 

She sat snuggled up on the couch, watching Shrek with anxiety pumping through her veins. The thought of having to move into a place completely alien to her was truly frightening. And not even a movie on the world's comfiest sofa could get her to calm down. Instead she sat and chewed on her nails, watching the moving pictures absentmindedly. 

At some point through the movie, the couch sank next to her and snapped her out of her nerve induced trance. She flinched and turned to see a man next to her, a soft smile on his lips. It was comforting, nothing like the malicious one she'd grown used to. She studied his sweet blue eyes and subconsciously melted into the back of the cushiony couch, as if his expression became contagious. She smiled back, eyes now sparkling with a childlike curiosity. 

"Hi," he voiced quietly, his tone like silk through her head. 

"Hi," she replied just as quietly, embracing the relaxing air around him. "You're Clint, aren't you?" Watching him nod, she smiled and crossed her legs on the seat. "Thanks for sticking up for me earlier. I appreciate it."

The smile on his face broadened and he winked at her, "I would've done it for anyone. Anyway, you seem like a good kid."

Tony's words quickly came rushing back into her head and with them, so did the anxiety. Her face crumpled and she began fiddling with her sleeve. "I don't wanna leave," she whispered, choking back tears of terror. Clint's expression changed quickly to one of shock and pity, sweet blue eyes reaching out towards her.

"Hey, hey, it's okay kiddo," he reassured her quickly, reaching in for a hug as Tony walked through the door. Upon witnessing the situation, he stopped where he was and rubbed his temples, realising no matter how hard he tried to not get attached, someone was bound to. 

"You don't have to be scared. I'm sure they're very nice people -" he cut himself off when she began to sob, holding onto his body for dear life. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her in a tight, protective embrace. "It's okay kid, I got you. You're not going anywhere."

"Actually, she is," Tony stepped in, walking over to the two of them with an indestructible determination. He watched them look up, and quickly avoided the terror in the girl's eyes. "She can't stay with us. We're the Avengers, not the Babysitters. We can't look after some fifteen year old kid and you know it," he spoke directly to Clint.

"Sixteen," Rory coughed but Tony wafted her away.

Clint glanced over to her, arm still around her back and hugged her a little tighter. "C'mon Tony. Just look at her. Can we keep her? Please! I promise I'll take good care of her, you won't even know she's here."

"No. We're not having this argument Clint. She's an actual human child and you don't know the first thing about taking care of a kid."

He smirked, "you'd be surprised."

Tony raised an eyebrow, "what's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Look, she can stay on my floor, there's a school not too far from here, she can go there -"

"Clint don't -"

"Please Tony," Rory begged, pouncing onto the man, wrapping her arms around him.

That was it, he melted. His indestructible determination had never vanished so quickly. He placed his arms over her back and did what he'd been wanting to do ever since he'd seen the look of fear in her eyes. He hugged her. And just like that, the argument was over. "Fine," he sighed in defeat, rubbing her back. "She can stay here, but I won't be the one checking up on her and making sure she's done her homework, okay? She'll be your responsibility."

With that, Clint leaped up from the couch and wrapped the two of them in his arms, squeezing them tight. "Thank you!" he cheered as Tony told JARVIS to cancel the child services. 

"Thank you Tony. I'll never forget this," Rory voiced from beneath Clint, holding onto him tighter.


	3. Chapter 3

# Doctor Robotnik

Steve found himself having to do a double take the next day, when he found Rory in the kitchen searching through the cupboards. He'd heard her first, and originally presumed a raccoon had climbed in through the window and started raiding the cupboards for food. He'd had a raccoon infestation in his youth and remembered the measures they had to take to remove them. With experience on his side, he stepped confidently into the kitchen, prepared to throw hands with whatever raccoon army that might be on the other side of the wall.

She stood far up on the counter, reaching for the top shelf well above her head, as though the designer had deliberately made the kitchen to exclude the presence of children. Crouched on her knees, she outstretched her hand, grasping for the cupboard handle to her left, just beyond reach. Steve watched with intrigue as she strained herself, determined to work her way around a room clearly not accommodated for her. With a last tug of her arm, she lost balance as she fell forward, caught the handle and leaned back again to recount her balance. But she'd thrown herself too far.

Rory's body flung from the counter top with the cupboard door still in her grip, ripped from its hinges like an attack on the very skeleton of the building. She squeezed her eyes shut and braced herself for a harsh landing. A sharp yelp left her mouth as her muscles stiffened for impact, though she found herself surprised by the warmth of the floor, and the way it had molded to her shape like some sort of well manufactured mattress. For a moment, she thought perhaps it was one of Tony's neat inventions. He'd even gone as far as to make the mattress smell pleasant. _Either that or someone had been sleeping on this mattress. Either way, they smell good_. Taking a breath, she took in the cologne and opened her eyes again to meet two pearly blue eyes. _This definitely is not a mattress_.

Steve watched in confusion, allowing his instincts to take over and swiftly caught her in his arms as he continued to try and process the child in the kitchen who was most definitely not a raccoon. He could've sworn Tony had said he'd taken care of it yesterday...of _her_... _So how is she still here?_ He studied her puppyish brown orbs, trying to read into her like a book. This girl was acting as though she'd just been to Disney Land, not dealing with the grief of murdering her own family. He could feel her heart hammering in her rib cage as he held her in his arms, pure silence drowning out any form of verbal communication they could even begin to make. There was something off about it all, and Steve was making sure to remain closed off until he could gather more information. He hardened his gaze.

To break the ice, Rory laughed awkwardly, a cheeky smile cracking her mouth open. Her cheeks flushed at the idea that she was being carried like a baby, and she began to feel rather foolish. "Whoops." Her feet touched back down on the floor, giving her a chance to take a breath and actually stare at the face of the person who'd just caught her. She smiled uncomfortably. His scruffy bed hair pointed in all different directions like rays of golden sunlight through a cloud. A white tank top and a pair of black sweatpants hugged his body snuggly.

Steve watched the small girl stood before him, drowning in a men's sized flannel and the plain grey sweatpants she hadn't been in yesterday. They were both cuffed in an attempt to fit her properly, but they left her shapeless as though walking around in a bed sheet. Her head hung low as though she couldn't muster the courage to stare him in the eye, and the look seemed familiar. He wondered who she must've stolen the flannel from - it looked like one of Clint's. With his arms folded over his chest, he breathed softly through his nose. "Rose?"

She raised her head disapprovingly at the name. "Rory."

"Sorry - Rory. What are you still doing here? I thought Tony found you somewhere else to go," he quizzed with a subtle hint of distrust in his voice. He clenched his jaw, staring her down with an accidental touch of soldier's gaze. A shock of electric zapped him as he waited for her response and watched the girl's careless reaction. From what he'd understood from her already, she was a small, skinny little thing with a knack for warming to people. But he wasn't going to let himself fall for her tricks. There was too much about her he couldn't see. _Why would Loki choose someone so ill-fit for combat? It doesn't make sense_.

She leaned against the counter and stared down at the cupboard door still held in her grip by the handle. Grimacing, she reluctantly looked to where it had previously been and eyed the Cheerios she'd been trying to retrieve. All she wanted to do was get some breakfast, now she was being interrogated by Soulless Mattress Man. Taking a moment to survey the air around them, she realised how she was being perceived. Her eyes met the same familiar look she'd seen so often in the adults who used to be in her life. An old memory stirred; the seeds of the dying plant seemed to be growing in the same soil. "Listen - I-I know you don't like me - at least that's the vibe - uh." She fiddled with her sleeve. "But I didn't mean to - I didn't mean to kill anyone - I -" She lifted the cupboard door, about to apologise before he cut her off.

"I didn't ask you why you chose to murder anyone, I asked you why you were still here," he snapped impatiently. He watched coldly as Rory flinched back. He'd seen her the day prior, how she danced around everyone's soft spots, manipulating them. Now she seemed like a flower in a storm, petals rushing by her that would've stopped people in the street the day before. He felt her pull on his heart strings and quickly resurfaced his original mindset.

Pain ruptured through her tongue as she chewed on it and held back a snarky reply. She felt her eyes fill with misery. "Clint asked Tony if I could stay - he said he'd take care of me," she stuttered quietly, eyes shimmering with tears that threatened to spill. She kept them under control. _Why is he acting like some stubborn house dog having to share his bed with a stray? Oh, because the stray has bad street cred, and she's a tourist. Ah, okay, I get it_.

"So you're staying here." He narrowed his eyes, "permanently."

Rory nodded in confirmation, sympathy clouding her mind. Her eyes stayed glued to her bare feet on the cold tiled floor. It stopped her from seeing his expression, but she could hear the stubborn, suspicious sigh from his mouth. She had nothing more to say to him. He didn't trust her - and she couldn't exactly blame him. So she stood in the silence, feeling like all the trees in the forest were watching her.

"Well you should keep far away from Loki whilst we find him an appropriate place to stay," he warned her tensely, and became satisfied when he watched her nod vigorously.

"I won't go near him - I promise."

With that, Steve left, deciding he wasn't hungry after all. Rory was left in the silence, with a cupboard door in her hand.

### 

"Aurora Jade Wolfe, you've been here less than one day and you've already vandalised my kitchen," Tony voiced as he walked into the kitchen holding a file. He looked up to see Rory trying to fix the door just enough so that when the next person went to use it, they'd think they had broken it. She turned to him with a look of distraught on her face and paused for a moment before placing the door back on the counter with a sigh.

"No one calls me Aurora," she mentioned strictly, never taking her eyes off the door. She waited in tension to hear his voice once more, hoping that whatever was in the file didn't hold everything about her life. It made her uncomfortable enough that he'd found her full name. And she'd wrecked his cupboards. _He's gonna throw me out. Do something_. She lifted her head and turned to him, gripping the sides of the wood, "I'm sorry about the door. I can fix it, I just need a screwdriver, some paints, a cup of water, a brush, and," she studied the door, "...a bottle of Jack."

"Hmm, smart kid," he mentioned, ignoring what she'd said as he read through her grades and flipped through the pages. "Says here you got two brothers, were they with you when-"

"He was," she cut in quickly, looking to skip this part of the conversation. She hesitated a moment. "He didn't make it." Her hand reached a stray cup on the counter and she moved to the tap to fill it, then continued on her exploits for the other equipment she'd be needing to 'fix' the door. Her words made her nauseous. Tony turned back to the file, reading further into it.

"That's a lot of hospital admissions for someone your age -" He glanced up with concern in his brown eyes, "was everything alright at home befo-"

"Fine," she snapped impatiently, "it was fine. They were just - just check ups." She glanced up to see his expression hadn't changed, "I had really overprotective parents is all." With that, she moved from the kitchen in search of tools.

Tony watched her go with curiosity, still holding the file. Taking a moment to decide whether or not to press, he let her leave and got comfortable in the kitchen, reading the file on her life.

### 

Rory returned twenty minutes later with a shaken look on her face, but the things in which she needed. To her disappointment, Tony was still there reading her file. Her heart sank as she edged closer to the counter, back to where the door was placed. She sighed and set up her tools around her, cup of water on a square of kitchen roll, paintbrush bathing in it. Tony continued to read, unfased by what she was doing.

She washed her brush and took out the blue and grey acrylic paints, turned the door on its front and began to paint the silhouette of a woman laying on the door in dark blue paints with light grey highlight around it.

Tony glanced over to what she was doing and raised an eyebrow, but he didn't lose attention. "You move around a lot?"

Giving him a sharp look, she turned back to her painting and began shading. "You know how invasive it is to look into someone's life like that? It's not like I have a file on you," she grumbled.

"I have an entire Wiki page if you want to do your own research."

She raised an eyebrow in surprise, wondering why he had a Wiki page. _Maybe he's a Guinness World Record holder_. Studying him for a moment, she wondered what special talent he might have. _Eyeballs that pop out? Fastest parallel parker? Swallowing the most fire? He doesn't give off a strange vibe. But then again who does?_ She gave in and decided to answer his question. "Yeah, we moved every few years. My mum was a travelling nurse so we went around the country a lot," she explained carelessly, painting an outstretched hand reaching for something past the wood.

By the time she'd finished painting, Tony's picture of Rory had changed like a cloud in high winds. In his mind, she became not only broken, but shattered and difficult to read - like some sort of less dangerous version of Natasha. He drummed his fingers on the surface of the counter, studying her messy brown hair hiding her troubled eyes. She was waiting for the painting to dry, cleaning off her supplies.

"I thought you weren't responsible for me anyway - why are you even reading my file?"

"Because you're still living in my building. I don't want a thief or a secret spy from the government staying under my roof," he smirked with ease and placed the papers down on the surface. "And as far as thieves and secret spies go, your record is pretty clean."

She glanced up and smiled in relief, eyeing the file as she dried her hands. "Can I see it?" her voice rattled through the air like a marble hitting cement. Tony turned back to her, stared at the file and then the desperate expression on her face and handed it over hesitantly.

"You can take a quick look at it, but then I need to put it back somewhere safe, okay? Don't want this getting into the wrong hands," he joked lightly as she opened the file and scanned through the paragraphs like she was a sniffer dog searching for a bomb. She looked through everything, holding her breath the entire time and when she reached the last sentence, she exhaled soundly. Her eyes met Tony's concerned ones and she smiled in relief, piquing his interest. What exactly had they missed on the file that she was so scared of them finding out? His trust in her decreased just a little.

With that, he took the file from her and left the room, allowing her to sort the cupboard out by herself.

Rory was a grey area. She wasn't black or white, she wasn't bad or good, she was grey. She was objective. She grew up with two brothers and a dog - that's how she liked to put it. In primary school, when she was asked to describe her family, that's how she would start. That's how she would prioritise. Her parents, well they were just a part of her background. They didn't stand out, she didn't like to see them. She put them in her shadow, blocking them from her brother.

And that's how they lived, through winter and summer, Christmas and half terms, holiday after holiday. So in Germany, when she was given the chance, the option to take away the lives that had been crushing hers her whole life, it didn't take much. Yes, she willingly sided with Loki whilst everyone else knelt before him. Yes, she allowed him to 'brainwash' her mind when he threatened her to stand back with her family. And yes, he made her kill them - but she thought he'd stop at her parents, she thought her brother was safe. Like I said - Rory was a grey area. She didn't kill for the sake of killing, she killed for her brother. But she wound up murdering him, too.

She remembered it all like a song, it wouldn't take much to bring the memory back. And when it was there, it circled her head for days. Her thoughts on Loki, however, hadn't changed since the beginning. When she first saw him, the look of inexperienced power and mischief in his eyes said a lot about him. He was scared, just like her. He hid it well, but she could see it deep behind all those wild emotions running through his head, in a corner at the back, his fear crawled through the walls, building them up and making them stronger. He wasn't a very likable character, and she, to an extent, detested him. But the rest of her, the part that had been crumbling to pieces for years, being torn apart layer by layer by the very people that raised her, that part was thanking him. She wanted to see him again, just to talk. She knew that everyone here hated him with a passion, and she understood, but she also understood that somewhere inside that man was a person breaking inside - and she knew exactly how that felt.

### 

"You alright kid?" Clint asked as he passed her down the hallway of his floor. He watched the small girl wander around obliviously. She glanced up to him with glassy eyes staring through him and nodded slowly like she wasn't sure. She seemed deep in thought.

He ruffled her hair as he passed, a jolly look on his face. "I looked into the school a few blocks away, looks promising. I called them up and they said you can join this week, how's that sound?"

A scowl crossed her face but she nodded reluctantly. "I don't know. I've never been to an American school - everything's so different already. I'm gonna get bullied," she mumbled uncomfortably.

Clint snorted in protest and shook his head. "No way, I've seen you fight; you're tough. If they bully you, you tell them you know the Avengers."

She raised an eyebrow, "you guys are...quite big in America?"

He nodded once more, trying to hold down a smirk. "Yeah, you could say - " He raised his eyebrows, "you really don't know..."

"Oh! No - no offense, uh. People know who you are, where I come from. Actually I've heard a lot of talk but - I - I never really looked for myself, you know? I - I was more interested in, like, YouTube, uh Netflix, Disney movies," she watched his expression dull with every word and tried to stop herself. "I heard..." she looked down to think, "Captain America? That's a thing, right?" His eyes brightened and she smiled, "are you Captain America?"

His laughter quickly deterred her and she scratched the back of her head, "Iron Man?" He became more hysterical and she shrugged blankly, "Doctor Robotnik?"

"Just stop!" he exclaimed in amusement. "C'mon, I'll give you your first customary American lesson," he called her over and they both walked towards the living room to get comfy.

Relief spelled through Rory's head as she listened to Clint's explanation, and the feeling of comprehension finally filling her mind.

"So I'm Hawkeye, the best Avenger. I basically pick up everyone's slack. Then there's Black Widow, she's like the girl version of me, she's badass...on second thought, she's probably better than I am," he smirked at the thought of Nat saying _damn right_ next to him. "Then there's Iron Man, he's not the leader, but he makes all the suits and the weapons. He wears a suit of Iron, really recognisable. Then there's Captain America, he's the leader, he's got this shield made of vibranium, strongest metal on Earth. Uh, Thor - that's Loki's brother, you probably already know him, he's got that giant hammer and the long blond hair, wears a giant red cape." Rory nodded easily, recalling the man who'd stopped her from seeing Loki. "And finally, the Hulk. He doesn't show up unless it's urgent, he's this giant green monster that Bruce can turn into, but don't ask him about it. He doesn't like talking about 'the Other Guy'."

"Okay," Rory began processing the information, "I think I get it. Thanks."

"No problem. You got any other questions, just ask."

She thought for a moment, "are American schools just like they are in movies? Do I get my own locker? Can I wear my own clothes? Do they have gun drills?"

He gave her a strange look and nodded slowly. "Yes? Were you really that deprived in Europe? Did they really make you wear a _uniform?_ "

She shot him an uneasy look and leaned away from him on the couch. "Yeah, we had to wear ties and blazers; it was hell."

"Well you're never gonna have to wear that again, don't worry kid. We've saved you."

"Gee, thanks."


	4. Chapter 4

# Co-Parenting

"Auroraaaaa," Tony sang at the exhausted, irritable teenager stumbling about the kitchen at six o'clock on a Monday morning. Tony wasn't exactly helping the situation. "Wakey wakey kiddo, did you hear me?" He waved a hand in front of her face and snapped her out of her dreary trance. She glared at him. "I said what's your drink? And don't get any ideas from Jack over there, I have no idea where you found that from, by the way," he uttered in a tone forced with feigning innocence. 

She turned her head to him and narrowed her eyes. "What?" she grumbled, "don't call me Aurora." The bottle of Jack Daniels stood strategically below the cupboard door she'd fixed the other day, to the left. She fought to hide a cunning smile and walked towards it, opening the door so that the painted woman laying there was reaching down directly towards Jack. 

He blinked at her idea and gave her a wry smile as she turned back, searching for his approval. "That's very clever." He pointed a finger at her, "you're a funny kid. You shouldn't be playing around with alcohol, but I'll let it slide." 

_Let it slide_ , she thought, _you're parenting me. You're not my legal guardian_. She held out her arms confidently, basking in his compliment before he recollected what he'd said before.

"So, back to what I was saying..."

"My favourite drink?" she recalled and cocked her head to the side. "Why are you asking? You know I'm not your responsibility, right? You don't need to go out of your way to help me. And you definitely don't need to go out of your way with that third consonant. It's Ro-ry, not Aurora," she lectured him and shut the door so that everything was back in place.

He grimaced and shrugged his shoulders, "I'm just being hospitable, I never said anything about you being my responsibility. No need to push me away, I'm not gonna coddle you," he surrendered, then walked around her, coffee mug in hand as she reached for an apple from the fruit bowl.

She sighed and shook her head with a pang of guilt. "I'm sorry. It's not that I don't like you -" She fumbled for words and looked back down, "I mean, you probably mean well - you're no Iron Man, you know?" she uttered, trying to make light of the situation. She hoped relating back to his work would warm the situation. To her disappointment, she found him with a confused expression on his face when she glanced back up.

He narrowed his eyes at her and paused for a moment. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She too, froze in confusion, thinking. When Clint had explained it to her, he hadn't exactly given her names to the...names. So, she'd done it herself. Obviously, Clint was Hawkeye, Bruce was the Hulk, Thor was Thor and Natasha was Black Widow. That left Steve and Tony. Obviously, Tony seemed more like a leader than Steve - mainly because she liked him more than Steve. But he seemed a lot older too, so he probably had more experience. Steve was, what, in his early thirties? Whereas Tony had to be in his forties at least. And the name Captain America seemed nicer than Iron Man, more human at least. 

"You're...Captain America," she guessed, waiting for confirmation quietly as Tony began to crack up and shake his head.

"You're kidding," he chuckled before seeing the confused expression on her face. "You're...you really don't know?" he clarified, stopping completely where he stood. " _I_ am Iron Man."

"Really?" Her tone sounded a lot more judgmental than she'd anticipated and quickly shook her head, " _really?_ I pictured Iron Man as this evil, stone cold, indifferent, blond muscly douchebag," she growled before realising her face had grown full of anger. She shook it away and looked up, "but that's Captain America, huh?"

Tony stared at her, dumbfounded. "I've never heard those words used to describe Steve in my life - geez, what did he do to you, kill your cat?"

"I don't have a cat. And clearly you know a different Captain America than I do. He hates me."

"What?" Tony was so surprised he began to laugh in confusion. "Are you sure you're talking about _Steve?_ " 

She nodded, "yeah, the blond guy who's not Thor."

He shook his head in confusion and decided to look into it later. "Look, I'll talk to Steve. Right now, you need to get a change of clothes. I asked JARVIS to order you a few outfits so you can have some options. They should be in your room." He watched her face contort into a sort of shocked, confused expression as she bit into her shiny red apple. 

"I'm not your responsibility Tony. Really, you didn't have to get me anything," she explained apologetically, growing flustered. _Who the hell is Jarvis?_ "I'll find a job and I'll pay you back - really you didn't have to do that." Her head began to run wild at the thought of someone else having to pay for her clothes. _A stranger. And sure, he owns a building, but superheroes don't even get payed, do they? He's probably in debt from making so many super suits...honey, where's my -_

He snorted and shook his head, "really kid, you don't need to worry about it." He patted her shoulder and began to walk away, a smirk on his lips. "Go get changed, you don't want to be late for your first day."

She stood there, wondering why he was doing all this for her. It didn't make sense. After all, he was the one who wanted to get rid of her. Now he was bending over backwards to make sure she felt comfortable. 

As she was walking back to Clint's floor, she passed Thor, who stopped before she could keep going. He stopped so suddenly, she copied his movement before she could crash into him. Sucking in a sharp breath, she hid behind her brown hair and glanced up, "sorry." Instead of passing her, though, Thor placed his arm in front of her to block her path. A glare sat upon his face as she glanced up nervously to see him. 

"You seem like a good girl," he said in a deep, husky voice, "but if you go near my brother once more, I will not hesitate to rip your head from your neck and cast it into the cosmos." There wasn't a moment in his voice that anyone could figure he was joking, his tone was so sincere. There was no flicker of doubt that this man was telling the utmost truth.

Rory swallowed hard and nodded her head, knowing full well that at some point, she had to talk to Loki. It wasn't fair - it wasn't exactly like she was going to go on a killing spree with him, she just wanted to commune with him and understand what was really going on. 

After a moment of hesitation, she sighed and nodded. It wasn't exactly like she could get in an argument with a guy called Thor anyway. _What sort of human being calls their kid Thor? What? Were they trying to upset the gods?_ "Okay," she nodded with a genuine expression on her face. It seemed to work, because he dropped his arm down back to his side and allowed her to pass him to get ready for school. With that, she trekked back to her room to pick out an outfit.

Thor headed up to the room Loki was being held in, to find him sat against the wall feeling sorry for himself. He built himself up to opening his door and stepping in, trusting his brother enough to be in the same room as him, or at least, trusting himself enough to take him. "How are you doing today?"

"No different from the last time you checked on me," he replied, head in his hand. His eyes narrowed suspiciously, "might I ask why you keep checking on me so often? Something ailing you?" When Thor didn't reply, it simply answered his questions. He sighed, "don't tell me it's about this mortal again? I thought I said I don't care if they find her washed up on the Bifrost. Why do we keep coming back to this?"

Thor stayed silent for another moment, eyes shifting across the floor. He glanced up once the thoughts in his mind had settled. "I don't trust her," he mentioned quietly, eyes small and sore. He grew silent once more as Loki raised an eyebrow.

"So you don't trust her. What has that to do with me? I don't know why you're bothering yourself with such insignificant problems - she's not even here anymore, is she?"

Thor stayed quiet.

He raised his head, "she's still here? Why?" Anger sparked in the tone of his voice, something that shouldn't have come up, had he not cared.

"What does it matter to you?" he barked, perplexed. "She's here because Barton pitied her. He seems to trust her, but some of us..." he trailed off, eyes hitting the floor once more, "well, you saw her. She chose you, over her own family -" he looked up with pained eyes, "she chose to murder her own kin." 

"You weren't there," Loki snapped at him. He glanced up with a defensive expression as Thor furrowed his eyebrows. "You don't know how her family treated her. I bet you neglected to even ask. Perhaps she chose me because I was her last option." He watched in anguish as his brother began to pace the room. His tone grew bitter. "And am I truly that terrible of a person for you to question why a child would run to me? Have I really become so evil that you are to question a child's perception of me?" he growled, eyes filling with shiny tears. His body began to tremble and Thor's expression grew solemn and shocked.

He shook his head. "Loki, you were threatening them, threatening their lives -"

"And yet she still stood before me -"

"She -"

"She stood before _me_. Clearly what she was going through was worse than anything I could've done to her. You shouldn't judge her based on this single decision she's made," he advised him. "She saved herself from what she was suffering through. Does that make her wicked?"

Thor stayed quiet, wondering. The cool air around him sank into his mind and he shook his head. "No, perhaps you're right." He nodded, turning to leave. As he reached the door, he spun around once more, a light smile on his face. "But you care for her," he noted, leaning into what he'd said. "You've been wondering too, why she would do such a thing."

"Well," Loki shrugged negligently, turning to the side to see the wall beside him, "her and I, we're not that different." 

His brother watched him with pain striking his mind before he swung open the door and exited. Loki was left with his mind once more, to think about that curious little thing that had approached him in Germany. _What was she getting up to now?_

### 

"How about this?" Rory strutted out of her room with a false sense of confidence, swishing a designer scarf around her neck that she'd found in her wardrobe. Clint sat on her bed, munching on a bowl of cereal as his newly adopted child performed a fashion show for him. 

Quite quickly, he began shaking his head, a deep smile on his face. Rory was wearing an obscurely patterned Louis Vuitton shirt paired with some black Prada trousers and shiny sneakers. What he found funny was that she hadn't the faintest idea what she was wearing. He was convinced she'd been pulled off the streets somewhere. She wouldn't know the different between a shirt purchased from Walmart and one from Gucci. He also wasn't convinced she knew what Gucci was.

He placed his bowl down on her bedside table and stood up, walking towards her and removing the scarf. "I don't think it's very...you," he noted, carefully hanging it back up, "and probably not very suitable for school." After making a note of everything she'd tried on, he sighed and began to look for himself, "surely there's something in here that's worth less than $500," he muttered quietly. 

Rory choked on her breath, gazing down at what she was wearing in absolute horror. "What!" Very carefully, she slipped off her shoes and placed them back where she found them. "I've never worn anything more expensive than £20." Her trembling fingers stayed far away from her clothes, in case she accidentally ripped them or stained them with her now clammy hands. _What sort of broke-super hero drowning in debt gives some random child such expensive clothes he knows she could never pay back in her life time? Is he trying to give me a heart attack?_

She didn't have much time to start drowning in her own panic attack. Out of nowhere, she was attacked by a denim jacket with a grey hoodie and some ripped, black jeans. "Those should do ya until I can get you some normal clothes," Clint stated, watching the terrified child in front of him study the expensive material in her hands. As she began to settle back down, he ambushed her with a pair of high top black Vans. She jumped once more, temporary fears dancing in her brown eyes until they filtered the emotion through and left her staring at the man in disarray. 

The outfit certainly helped her blend in more at school. She was grateful for that. Unfortunately, the only bag Tony had given her was a Monnier Freres handbag which she wasn't exactly the biggest fan of. It wasn't really a practical bag. She preferred ones that she could throw over her shoulder, not one that she had to hold in a certain position for it to look natural. She couldn't even fathom the pricing of it - she'd never touched something like that so expensive. It was like seeing the Queen driving down her street in Volkswagen mini van.

Rory couldn't say she enjoyed American school much more than her old English school. The only difference was how on edge they were about gun crime. Not having to wear a tie and a blaser was an added bonus, though. A girl who'd been eyeing her bag all lesson had attempted to befriend her at break, but Rory had been through her fair share of fake friends. She knew what to look for and who to stay around. The girl stood before her was, in fact, a fake friend more interested in her non-existent bank account over who she was as a person.

It didn't bother her much; at least she didn't have to go through the process of forcing out awkward small talk until she became comfortable enough around them to have normal conversations. That could take years knowing her. She was always quiet and reserved in the beginning of a friendship. It was probably why she didn't have friends back where she came from. 

### 

Meanwhile, back at the Tower, Clint and Tony sat in the living room with the vast T.V screen quietly playing a movie in the background. Clint eyed Tony suspiciously, a faint smile poking at his lips as he pieced the hints together. Tony sat silently, watching him observe him. He tried his best to act unbothered by this, but the truth was, he was growing more uncomfortable by the second. 

After a few more agonising seconds, Tony snapped. His leg, which had previously been crossed over the other, folded back over to its normal position. He leaned forward so his form shrank and his eyes lowered. "What?" 

His discomfort caused Clint to snigger lightly and lean back with ease. His leg crossed over the other and fingers intertwined each other. All whilst his sparkling blue eyes remained glued to the brown eyed man before him. "I'm just tracking back to how reluctant you were to let me adopt the kid," he explained, eyes drifting over to the forms on the table. Tony's expression dropped knowingly as Clint turned back to him once more, "now we're co-parenting," he joked.

Tony scoffed in disagreement, turning away to the wall as if it were Natasha so he could share a look of disapproval with her. "We _are not_ co-parenting," he replied stubbornly, but shifting once more when he realised that Clint's expression hadn't changed.

"No? Okay, well, guess I'll just return those clothes you got her. Oh, not to mention the Cadbury chocolate you imported in bulk from England that no one else is going to eat. Did you just assume she likes that by the way?" He raised an eyebrow as Tony sighed in defeat.

"I didn't import it in _bulk_. It's only a dozen crates. And she complained about our limited variety of chocolate bars in America, so I just wanted to make her feel more at home. It's nothing - you're the one actually taking care of her," he ranted stubbornly.

"Whatever you say," Clint shrugged, rising from his seat and walking by the man who still hadn't finished excusing himself.

"I'm not co-parenting her with you! I just bought her stuff. I'm like the cool distant uncle, okay? Nothing more!"

"Nothing more," Clint grinned as he continued walking. It was obvious to him Tony had already grown attached to her. It was only a matter of time before he started taking her to school instead. 

### 

It didn't take Rory long to fish out the outcasts of her class. She'd become an expert at it with all of her experience. Her radar was buzzing as she scanned over the desks of drooping heads in the brightly coloured room. A raven haired girl with fish net socks and black Doc Martens, thick lines of eyeliner and cloudy eye shadow. A boy at the front with a camouflage bag and greasy brown hair slicked back with a comb. Someone directly in front of her with fluffy white hair cut to their ears, dressed in dungarees and flannel, doodling on the margins of their notebook. 

A yawn almost swallowed Rory whole as her gaze dragged its heels to the back of the class where a brunet boy was lazily gazing ahead at the board, an easy going expression on his face. He caught her eyes as she studied him for a moment too long, trying to figure out what kind of person he was. A slant of his lips revealed a set of pearly white teeth more obvious on the left side than the right. She glared at him and turned back around, wishing to avoid the attention of the type of boy he was. She'd read enough high school AU fanfictions to know exactly what kind of boy that was. Obnoxious, arrogant twat faces. Boxing her gaze back onto the board, she made a mental note to avoid the boy and instead set her mind back onto the girl in the back corner with the eyeliner. She seemed like a good place to start.

A dreadful crackle of the bell signalling the end of class left the students around her to collect their things and stand to their feet. Rory swooped down and scooped up the bag she was starting to hate more and more. Skillfully, she stopped momentarily and waited for the girl stationed further away from the door than her to step out in front of her before she followed along. As they walked through the door, she found herself able to get a better look at her.

A leather jacket shone in the light of the window, leaving pale blue rings to warp up and down as she stepped. Rory began to envy the rugged black bag on her back with thinning material and growing holes. It was clearly a greatly loved bag from the amount of pins and badges she'd sewed to it, mainly punk and screamo bands and a few animes. Rory's impression of her grew, but one thing was for sure. This was definitely outcast material. 

She stopped as they reached the outside of the school and turned around with a harsh flick of her shoulders. Rory stopped too. A stern glare stuck to the repelling girl's eyes and she squeezed the strap of her deteriorating bag. "Are you following me?" she challenged with a fierce tone. With a glare like that, Rory could swear she could feel the girl's hard grip on her heart instead of that bag strap. 

Taking a breath, she too, hardened her gaze. She might be new here, but it wasn't her first time dealing with a defensive teen. "What does it look like?" she growled, only causing the girl to take a heavy step towards her in her black combat boots.

"It looks like you're following me. What the hell is another British creep doing here anyway? What, you two plan to meet up here or something?" she tested, grappling with the idea that her school was about to be taken over by some posh London tea-drinkers. Her knuckles grew white as her hold on her bag tensed.

Around them, more children walked by, chattering loudly between themselves. The tarmac they stood on only lasted a few yards longer before the grass took over, going as far as to test their restraints, growing through the cracks in the solid black floor. No one seemed to see them as they spoke, all too caught up in their own worlds. It relieved Rory to know she wasn't bringing too much attention to herself.

She took a step back, away from those hurtful green eyes that seemed heavy with an emotion she couldn't decipher. "I don't know what you're on about, mate. Look, we got off on the wrong foot. I'm -"

"Mate? Fuck off you freak. I don't want to talk to you!"

Rory widened her eyes. Not only was she yelling at her, but her different accent made it so much worse. It was as though she'd increased the delivery with the very sound of her voice. She took another step back in her light weight black and white Vans, feeling astonishingly smaller than the girl in front of her, who took up so much room with the clothes she wore. Her temper fell short as she collected herself back up again and her fists balled. 

"Fine! Like I wanted to talk to you, either!" she snarled back and then turned around as the girl stormed away, only to meet with two very amused eyes. Rory's temper grew even shorter at that slanted smirk she'd already found marked in her mind. She felt her cheeks growing a hot red at the taller boy with messy hair and bushy brown eyebrows. "The fuck are you looking at?" 

He gave a light chuckle and glanced around them at the emptiness of the ground around them. The students in the area had all found a place to settle down and talk amongst their groups. And Rory had quickly realised that he was not in one of them. Despite his demeanour, he didn't seem to have any close friends. She raised an eyebrow at him, taking another second to study him. _How does someone like him end up on the outside of the school groups?_ A loose white V-neck hung on his shoulders, underneath a grey hoodie and a green utility jacket. Old brown rucksack, white Nike trainers, stylish hair. She couldn't understand just how he'd ended up alone. A slight sense of relief hit her, _at least I'm not living in a high school fan fiction_.

"Relax, I'm not gonna bite your head off," he reassured her with a billionaire look in his eyes. He stepped toward her, slipping his hands into his jacket and sloping his shoulders down, hanging his head downwards to make up for the height difference. Rory felt herself shrinking as he walked towards her. "I'm Buster Canis, we're in the same history class," he informed her and waited for a response as though awaiting an order at McDonald's.

She narrowed her eyes at him, " _Buster_ , isn't that a dog's name?" she joked, a slight amused smile on her face.

A half smile covered his momentary dead eyes and he leaned into the joke, "you would think so, _wouldn't you?_ " he forced the words out of his mouth, as though hinting at something she couldn't understand. 

She offered another warm look and then decided to introduce herself. "Well, my name's Rory," She stepped back so she didn't have to raise her head so much. The sound of his voice ran through her mind like silk sheets; it was obvious he wasn't from America. When he spoke again, she realised he must be from further south than she was. "You're not from around here either, are you?" she verified with a guarded look in her eyes. 

The boy smiled and raised an eyebrow, "no, I've not been here long. Where abouts are you from?" he asked, waiting for a reply he might find familiar.

A bubble formed in her throat and she found herself grasping for a more bearable answer. "Germany," she blurted out with a flash of worry in her eyes before glancing to the left. In the corner of her eye, she could see him furrow his eyebrows and his smile drop almost as though the answer had pained him.

"Germany, huh?" She heard his voice quieten with uncertainty. "I thought, from your accent, you must be from England."

"I was - originally. Then I went to Germany, and now I'm here," she explained, knowing she wasn't lying, but she wasn't exactly trying very hard to be truthful, either. He took a step forward and she glanced up again, noticing the honey colour in the brown of his eyes. It reminded her of her dog. 

"Oh, your family move around a lot?"

She took a heavy sigh that made her chest puff up significantly before her shoulders sloped back down. "Hopefully not anymore," she responded with a deep aching in her eyes. When she looked up again, the boy seemed sorrowful, almost as if he knew how she was feeling. And just like that, she found herself more comfortable around him than any school friend she'd had in a while. He'd already exceeded the mark of basic small talk and was searching around the arena of her family history, a very sensitive topic in her case. 

Before he could stray any further into her past, the bell rang again. Rory felt a weight off her chest and began to make her way to class again. She couldn't wait for escape from that day.


	5. Chapter 5

# Raw Chicken

Natasha walked the halls on a Tuesday morning after Rory had gone to school. Sheets of paper were tucked beneath her arm as the cool air floated briskly by her ruby red hair. A blank, unreadable expression laid on her face as she moved with purpose towards Tony's lab, where he was currently working on a new suit.

"I hope that's not for Aurora," she noted as she walked through the glass doorway, gaining a blank expression from the sleep deprived man. He watched her warily as she stepped towards him, observing the size 5 Pensford high tops he was modifying.

"Why?" he asked innocently, hiding the small light bulbs behind his back as Nat raised her eyebrow. She hesitated before she took the sheets tucked beneath her arm and handed them over to the man. "What's this?" his tone perked up and he squinted his eyes at the black ink printed across the paper. What looked to be more information on their new companion started to pull Tony into a void of fear and concern. The more he read, the more his fear grew as Natasha watched feeling somewhat guilty that she had to be the bearer of bad news.

Once he'd finished reading, his blood pressure had risen significantly. He stared up at Natasha from the sheets with a positively terrified and worrisome frown. "You're sure this is _our_ Aurora?" he asked, already knowing the answer. He watched her with a shaking glance before swallowing and nodding slowly, a breath of air slowly leaving his lungs. He placed the bulbs back down onto his desk and moved to his chair to take a seat. Fingers ran through his messy hair whilst his mind tried to process the news he just attained. " _Five_ people?" he voiced, still in shock, eyes barely trained on the woman in front of him who began to shift where she stood.

"She was ruled out of any charges -"

"Yeah, that doesn't mean she's innocent. _Five_ people?"

She sighed and folded her arms over her chest, nodding her head slowly. "I'm sure she had a reason. If you ask her she'll probably tell you."

He raised his head from his hands once more, "what do you know? You haven't said a word to her since she got here!" His voice raised before he realised he was taking his anger out on the wrong person. Leaning back in his cosy chair, he shook his head, "maybe that's what I should've done. I never should've let her stay here. She's bad news," he mentioned, glancing back at the sheets in his hand.

Natasha's green eyes pierced into Tony's. The shake of her head caused her curly hair to bounce swiftly next to her soft cheeks. "You shouldn't judge someone on their worst mistakes," she reminded him, her demeanour closed off and distant, "I wouldn't be here if you did." The silence confirmed it. When Tony glanced up again, there was a little less betrayal in his eyes.

A soft sigh left his lips, eyes shutting for a moment. "You're right," he stood to his feet and shuffled the paper. "There's probably a reasonable explanation. She seems like a good kid." As his back turned, another thought commenced in his mind and he watched her with a knowing guilt, "have you told Clint?"

"Not yet," she spoke hesitantly, the resistance in her voice prominent. It was understandable. No one wanted to rain on Clint's parade. Not after his own experience with Loki. She took another second to think, adjusting her stance before her solid eyes met Tony's once more. "We should talk to Aurora first. Get her side of the story before involving Clint in this. He doesn't need to know."

A simple nod was all Nat needed from him. With that, she was gone, taking the files with her leaving no evidence the situation had ever taken place. 

### 

During lunch period, Rory found herself inhaling breaths as though they were about to start pricing oxygen. Heat coated the breeze uncomfortably as it pushed around the smell of day old chicken cooking from the cafeteria. Birds swooped around in the endless blue skies, leaving no real shade from the sun. She glanced up with a dull aching in her chest.

"Missing the rain?" A warm tone met her ears and lingered there moments after he'd stopped talking. Rory turned her head reluctantly and found Buster stood waiting for her, hair dancing gracefully in the wind. She pulled a small smile and stepped towards him.

"No place like home," she replied and began walking with him to an empty spot on the picnic bench. 

"Why did your family decide to move to America anyway?" he asked as he dumped his bag beside him on the empty seat. When he looked back to her, she was shading her eyes from the brightness of the sun, a frown pulling down on her face, tensing the muscles.

She watched him dig through his bag carelessly. "I could ask you the same question." 

He pulled something out, temporarily turning his attention to it as he pulled it outwards, taking out the creases and forming it back to its usual shape. "Well, my mum works for the army so we got stationed in New York for a while. My dad was pretty reluctant about the whole thing, but when Mum's set on something, she doesn't really hear what anyone else says. So now we're here for the foreseeable future," he explained and turned back to her with a burgundy and white sun hat in his hand. Leaning forward, he fit it onto her head with a stretch of his arm and moved back to how he was sat as though he never did it at all. It was such a subconscious thing, Rory began to wonder if he was even aware he'd done it. 

Pulling her hand away from her forehead, she stretched her mouth to the side. "Thanks."

"You looked like you needed it. Sorry it was only $3 from Target, nothing as expensive as whatever you're wearing now." He sent her an amused gaze with a hint of something more. It wasn't jealousy or hatred like she'd seen from so many others, more like confusion. She waited for him to press, but he dropped the subject for a moment. "So, I told you..."

"Oh, it's kind of a long story."

"And we've kind of got an hour to spare. C'mon, why are you so guarded?"

 _Oh, you have no idea_ , she thought and felt the urge to roll her eyes. "It's just a complicated story."

"Well, why don't you start with who you live with?" 

_You think that's a simple answer?_ She sighed and readjusted the hat on her head, "my, uh...dad and his..." She trailed off as she watched an ant crawl by over the wood. 

Buster raised an eyebrow, "his what? Mistress? Gay lover? Drinking friends?"

A smirk grew on her face, _how about all of the above?_ "Let's go with friends."

Any hint of amusement dropped from his face, "what about your mum? Where's she -"

 _Again, it's complicated_. She clenched her jaw. "She's not around. It's just my dad and -" 

He furrowed his brow. "And his friends? I don't mean to judge, but living in a house with your dad's friends. That's gotta be weird, right?"

Rory didn't like him pressing. He was walking into uncharted territory. He was no longer welcome. She leaned away from the table and narrowed her eyes. "What does it matter? It's none of your business anyway."

He raised his hands to signal he didn't mean anything by it. "Sorry, I shouldn't have overstepped." Taking a moment to read the atmosphere, he felt the air lighten and turned back to the girl's face, "where abouts are you living? I'm just a few blocks away from school."

She knit her brows. _What the hell are blocks?_ "Uh, north of here."

Again, another eyebrow raise. He turned his head past the school, as though he could see it from here. "You mean where all those fancy buildings are? The Avengers Tower, that kind of place?"

"Yeah," she clarified, building up her walls again, "'round there."

"Geez, how rich is your dad?"

The silence left her uncomfortable and she shifted away from her bag, almost subconsciously. The only thing she could feel an attachment to was the scruffy $3 hat on her head that wasn't even hers. That was definitely more her style. Growing up, she'd always get her brother's hand-me-downs she never stopped wearing, even as she grew older. Her mother hated it; she was always nagging at her to start wearing more feminine clothes, but she didn't care. Her brother's old stuff was always so much more comfortable. And after he left, she only grew more attached to them. They kept his smell.

"It's more like, 'how rich is my dad's friend?'"

"Either way." He shrugged then glanced at her again with a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. "The hat suits you. You should keep it."

"No, I couldn't."

"Really, it seems like more your style. You don't look like the kind of person who wants to be lugging a designer handbag around all day."

"Yeah, you'd be right," she smiled and brought her hand to her hat, unaware of the happiness flashing through her eyes. "Thank you."

He waved his hand as though it were nothing. "Yeah, probably not the best thing to wear if you live with the Avengers, though," he smirked and gave her a knowing look. Then, as though a penny had dropped, he watched as her smile vanished at what he'd said and a horrified look dance in her eyes.

"What do you mean?" she uttered, swallowing hard. 

Buster stopped, watching her almost as though he could see her heart hammering in her chest. He shook his head, a confused expression in his golden brown eyes. "The hat..." he mumbled, "it's got the Avengers logo on it. It's just a joke - what -" he gave a nervous laugh, "it's not like you live with the Avengers, is it?" 

Rory pulled the hat off, leaving pieces of loose brown hair to fly up from the friction. She studied the A logo across the burgundy and white and breathed a quiet sigh of relief she masked as a laugh. "Oh, no. I wish," she laughed, but when she looked to him, he didn't seem convinced.

"Is your dad, what, Captain America?" he asked and she instantly sent him a look of disgust, as though she'd been insulted on a personal level by what he'd just insinuated.

"What? _No_ ," she responded in distaste.

"What's wrong with Captain America?" Now Buster was the one who seemed insulted. "No one acts like that about Captain America. He's like Ed Sheeran, you can't hate him. You can't trust anyone who does, not unless they know him on a personal level and he did something to hurt them, but -" his eyes grew wider and he leaned forward, " _do you know_ Captain America?"

She leaned back and shook her head quickly, giving a nervous laugh. "What? No! Why would I -"

"You live down where the Tower is, you said your dad's friend's rich, you freak out when I mention the Avengers and you sneer at Captain America. You can't just look at me and tell me you don't know the Avengers."

Her eyes began to dart around and just before she could make an excuse, the bell relieved her of her fate. She sent him a victorious smile and stepped off the bench. "Ah, looks like I've gotta go. I'll see ya later."

"Hey - wait!"

### 

"Hey kid, how was your day?" 

Rory dove into the car and shoved her bag over her lap, ducking beneath it to hide her face from the kids outside. "Just drive," she grumbled, an irritated expression on her face. Her eyes had been covered with a vicious avalanche of anger aimed mostly at the teenagers surrounding her. She glared past the windshield as Clint reversed out of the lot, shrugging off the moodiness of the teenager in the car.

"I'll take that as a _peachy_ , then," he spoke under his breath, mainly as a sort of dad-joke. His lighthearted words didn't seem to rub off on her, though. As he drove onto the highway, he sneaked a glance at her, she kept her lips sealed and her grumpy brown eyes forward. 

"You gonna give me a hint?" he glanced over to her, eyes soft and sympathetic. She shook her head stubbornly, wrapping her arms a little tighter over her designer handbag. He noticed tears at her eyes trying their best to fight the barrier and spill over. Impulsively, he moved his hand onto her hand and rubbed her knuckles as he drove. "It's okay, you can tell me."

"They're all fucking dickheads," she cried, shutting her mouth the moment her words had left to avoid hysterically sobbing in front of someone she still wasn't too close with. She was supposed to be keeping up the impression he had of her. It faltered in her brain and her head dropped to rest on her bag, brown hair spilling over like a waterfall. It blocked Clint's view of her, but he could tell she was still fighting back tears.

"Who? The other kids?" he guessed quietly, now finding his voice difficult to use in such a sensitive situation. He usually thrived in more upbeat circumstances. But he had his own kids now, and he'd grown to his temperamental side.

"Everyone!" A sob followed her word and she burrowed further into her bag.

As they continued driving, Clint noticed a McDonald's up ahead in the distance and decided to make a quick stop. They slowed to the drive-through and he rolled down the window as a familiar tone coursed through the speaker.

"Hi welcome to McDonald's, what can I get for you today?"

Rory's head had never jerked up so fast. Clint snorted as he saw her in the corner of his eye and turned to the machine. "Hi, can I get a double Quarter Pounder with cheese," he requested and smiled as Rory opened her mouth, asking for a McFlurry, quietly so that the person working couldn't hear. "And a Smarties McFlurry." 

The two of them sat in the McDonald's parking lot eating their food with the radio playing in the background. In the silence of it all, Rory decided to take a deep breath and collect herself before speaking. She looked over hesitantly towards the man who was rocking his head along to the beat of the song, staring ahead at the distance, lost in his own thoughts. She cleared her throat. He glanced to her.

"I'm sorry I was in a bad mood," she apologised quietly, brown eyes trapping a ghost of guilt in her soul. "School's not that bad. I was just hangry." She glanced down to her half eaten ice cream and stirred the Smarties to create a rainbow swirling around in the white. 

Clint watched her wistfully, "it's okay Rory. Hey, I have off days all the time. But if school starts to become a place you'd rather not be, just tell me. We can work it out together. We might even be able to homeschool you." 

A smile sweetened her face as Clint finished the last bite of his burger and started the car. "Thank you." 

### 

Tony and Natasha waited in the living room, listening to the jolly voices growing louder as Clint and Rory approached them. Doubt wrenched through their guts as they waited in anticipation. Their light was about to be put out. Tony watched Clint's smile beam into the room like a ray of sunlight, only causing his feelings to worsen. Rory noticed immediately. She stopped where she was the moment she made eye contact with Nat. Clint stopped soon after, to find out the reason why she'd halted so suddenly.

"Clint, Fury's got an update for us on the mission," Natasha vocalized quickly, distracting Clint from the reason Rory had hidden back in her shell. She never ceased the eye contact with Tony as the two of them departed. 

"You found out," her voice sliced into the tense air left to die after Clint had gone. She couldn't help but allow her body to stiffen, leaving her voice shaky and quiet. Tony felt her mood change, but remained a rock, unsympathetic and to the point. He had to know if he could trust her. Not even her soppy round eyes could soften him up. At least, he thought so. He watched her tuck her hands beneath her sleeves and pursed his lips to maintain his sternness. 

He stepped forward and folded his arms over his chest, lowering his chin so his eyes pierced directly into hers. Despite the fact that she was now watching her feet, she could feel his eyes on her. "Why didn't you come clean earlier? Whatever you did to send _five_ people to the emergency room with 'food poisoning' can't have been such an innocent mistake you'd forget to mention it the first time I asked."

Rory choked on her words, eyes stinging with tears. This was it. This was end of her. She wouldn't be kept in a home where she couldn't be trusted. She'd been in a similar situation before. The same feelings lingered in her stomach and left a bitter aftertaste in her throat. "I -" she took a breath and clenched her fists, holding back a sob, "I - I swear - it was an accident Tony," she looked into his eyes desperately. "I just -" She fumbled, "I didn't cook the chicken enough."

Tony scoffed and looked away in disgust. "You can't cook?" he barked, more vexed than Rory had expected from what he'd taken away from her statement. "This whole time you've been staying here and you _can't cook?_ Get out of this building right now!" His voice was raised enough to believe he wasn't joking. Rory backed away at the volume of his tone, already assuming what was to come next. She covered her head with her arms for protection and bent forward so her back could protect the rest of her. 

"I'm sorry! I'll learn how to cook chicken! Please don't - please don't -" Rory found herself unable to finish her sentence. Tony just stared in astonishment, realising the child hadn't understood the sarcasm in his voice. He also became greatly concerned with the fact that she'd just gone to protect herself from a blow the moment he raised his voice. 

"Kid, it's okay, I'm not going to hit you." He reached forward and gently held her shoulder, causing her to flinch. She glanced up once she felt his soft touch and he slanted his head to the side. "I guess there's still a bit of a language barrier there. British sarcasm must be so obvious," he commented causing her to grow a little irritated. 

" _Yeah, I bet you'd be able to tell right away_."

He nodded absent-mindedly, therefore answering Rory's guess. She mentally rolled her eyes and moved back to the topic. Tony sighed and sat on a couch, inviting her to sit on one opposite him so he could face her, like a formal gathering.

"Listen, if you're going to live here, you have to pack it in with the lying, understood? I won't be raising a - I mean I won't have Clint raising a liar. Stop smiling, I'm just your cool uncle, okay? I mean it!" Rory bit her lip to stop herself from smiling and quickly nodded her head. "Good. So what's the truth? How did you end up sending five people to the hospital with food poisoning?"

Rory sighed in preparation for the long story. She kept her hands in her lap and looked up at Tony like she was in a job interview. "So, there's this thing in England called food tech. You usually have to take it from year seven to year nine," she began, already losing his understanding. "Uhh, anyway so I was still learning in year seven -"

"Why does this sound like a fib?"

"Fine! I was in year nine and I still didn't have a clue what I was doing. We were learning how to make a whole Sunday lunch and I'd told my parents the previous week about the whole thing."

"You know I can see when you're lying now? You've got a tell."

Rory, now uncomfortably aware that she was unconsciously doing something she wouldn't normally do when she lied, began again. "Fine, so I told them the day before and stressed out about having to get all the ingredients at the last minute. Anyway, since my parents knew what I was cooking, and had already made plans with our family to meet up the next night, they decided that I would have to cook enough for everyone." Tony nodded, a slight knowing smile on his face. Rory shifted nervously. "So, um, it started out well, you know, I'd chopped all the veg, I'd put the chicken in the oven," she looked to the side and took a breath, "and then we left for break. When I came back, I realised the oven had never been turned on. So...I turned it on, but instead of putting it at 180, I turned it to the highest it would go to and just hoped it would cook in time." Rory watched Tony's face fall and his teeth grind together and tried quickly to redeem herself, "and I thought it did! Okay? It smelt cooked, it looked cooked enough, my friend said it looked good and the teacher, like, glanced at it and didn't comment on it which was better than what I normally got. Most teachers never really realised I was there... Uhh, anyway, I brought it home and my stupid aunt and uncle and entitled spoiled cousins were already there making stupid comments about me. They started patronising me and asked me condescendingly to go heat the chicken up. So, you know, I put it in the oven again and I was rushing around -"

"No you weren't."

"I could hear them still picking me apart from the other room, anything from my grades to my appearance. So yeah, I was annoyed. I took the chicken out before it cooked properly, stuck the parts I knew for certain weren't cooked enough, covered it with gravy and veg and gave it to my stupid aunt and uncle and cousins and I was glad when they got sick. Okay? _Initially_. And then I started feeling guilty, especially after I got hit with a baking tray for not knowing how long to cook a chicken for. You'd think that would've taught me," she laughed nervously after seeing the sympathy on Tony's face. "Anyway, my aunt called the police on me and they didn't take it too seriously, but they did put it in their records because she forced them to. I believe she called me a murderous savage." 

Tony sighed and rubbed his temples, shaking his head in his hand. "I expected so much worse." 

Rory grinned in relief, "are you kidding? I can't cook chicken. I'm a disgrace. That would've bought my head a smack with a frying pan at home." 

Tony stopped what he was doing and looked at her in distress. "Is that why you thought I was going to hit you earlier?" he questioned, eyebrows furrowing and eyes glimmering with sadness. 

She shifted awkwardly, voice quietening once more, "you raised your voice. That's what I used to hear before I -" she looked away, trying to forget the memories resurfacing in her head. "Uh," she coughed, "if it's alright with you, I've got homework to do." 

Tony was still quiet, watching her with the deepest sorrow. He always saw her as a fragile puppy, but now she was an abused, fragile puppy that didn't know parental love. His heart wrenched in his chest and he found it hard to hide it. "Yeah, yeah, you go do your work kid. Don't - Don't worry about any of this, okay? You can stay here for as long as you need." She smiled at him gratefully before leaving for Clint's floor, bag in hand.


	6. Chapter 6

# For a Cup of Salt

Thor passed by the living room during school hours and eyed the couch warily. He stopped in his tracks when he noticed a head of hair hidden beneath the head rest and inched closer, staring down at the body the head was attached to. He narrowed his eyes when he found the small girl he'd been actively trying to avoid. It was a lazy Friday afternoon and the heat of the summer sun was blasting in through the window and soaking into anything in its path. It left everything in a hazy blur and Thor's mind felt soggy and worn as he tried to understand what she was doing there. As he stood debating whether or not to address her, Rory's head raised at the feeling of being watched. She jumped back at the sight of two strong blue eyes piercing into her own. A puppyish glint sparkled in her eyes and he adjusted to her gaze.

"Shouldn't you be at school?" he reminded her with a stern, unfriendly tone that removed the glint from her eyes. Her lips tightened and she froze in her seat, removing her attention from the TV screen and shaking her head too quickly.

"No," she replied in a high tone. When she looked up at him again, she felt his brooding gaze piercing into her soul. Her heart skittered in her chest and she looked away again, trying to rid herself of the ache forming in her neck. Despite this, Thor's hardened gaze drove into her soul, and she huffed, "is there something you need?" she asked satirically, glaring ahead at the TV screen she could no longer fully concentrate on.

Thor stood there for another second, eyeing the girl distrustfully. For now, she'd done nothing wrong. He couldn't blame her for anything, but something in his gut told him she was nothing but trouble. "Why aren't you at school?"

"I'm sick," she replied in a blatant lie. There was no attempt to hide it, though. She sank back into the sofa, using it as a force field from both the glare of the sun and the even stronger glare of Thor.

"You don't look sick," he snapped bluntly, waiting impatiently for a reply. There was a bitterness in his heart that began growing through his gaze.

"It's internal - that's why. My, uh, my...bowels," she continued talking with an unabashed monotone tinge to her voice. She became distracted again with the screen as Thor gave up and walked away from the child, but kept in mind to keep a close eye on her. Rory waited a couple more moments before she knew Thor was gone before she made a move, turning off the TV screen and standing to her feet. The sun caught full grasp of her as she made her way past the window. She turned from the harsh glare and trekked her way down to the room she knew they were keeping Loki in.

Thor continued down the hallway to Clint's floor, where he found the man walking towards the lift. He changed his sceptical gaze to a friendlier one and flashed him a smile. "Clint! How are you?" he asked, slapping his hand onto the sturdy man's shoulder and receiving a warm smile back.

"I'm good thanks, man. How are you doing?"

He nodded, "yes, well, thank you. All is well," he replied softly, his voice growing quieter as he turned away for a second. Looking back at the man, his expression molded to a graver one,. "How is that daughter of yours? Is she well, too?"

Clint raised his eyebrow with a little shock at his care and nodded his head casually. "Yeah, yeah, she's fine. Got the day off school today 'cause she's 'sick', but I think she's just goofing off." He waved his hand with indifference, not too fased by her one day off from school. It wasn't going to be a cause for concern yet.

"Oh, really?" Thor responded with a higher pitch, forcing intrigue where there was none. They both stood in the lift in silence, just staring ahead at the door before it pulled open and they stepped out. "She hasn't said anything about Loki, has she?" he queried with a notable concern in his voice.

Clint turned to him, reflecting humour and a touch of concern as he shook his head. "No," he laughed in confusion as they began walking towards the living room where the child had been not ten minutes ago. Thor's face dropped as they walked in to find the TV off and the couch empty.

He pointed his finger towards the empty space and turned back to Clint, whose expression hadn't changed. "She was just here," he said with a touch of threat.

Shrugging, Clint sat down at the couch, "she's probably gone to get food, or bug Tony. Relax."

"Yeah," he breathed, shoulders falling as he tried to believe him, "you're probably right." Even so, on a hunch, the man made his way down to Loki's cell, doubt biting at his brain. The breeze he was creating wafted through his hair as he strode his way down, flying through the corridors like a sheet in the breeze. His chin was raised and shoulders pulled back like a king as he made his way down, about to convict someone with treason.

As he neared the glass door towards the cell, his heart sank. It was open. Blood rushed to his ears, his heart beat pounding against his ear drums. For a moment he slowed his movement as he reached towards the cold metal door, hoping it was just some mistake. He marched forward, clenching his jaw as he peered through the corner of the next door. His gut twisted as he stepped through and discovered the silhouette of a small girl staring up at the glass before her. With white knuckles and daggers for eyes, his heavy footsteps made his presence known.

At the strike of thunder, Rory snapped her head back as her heart dropped like a lead weight to the pit of her stomach. Blood pounded through her veins, adrenaline released from her brain coursed its way through her body, activating her fight or flight. In her panic, everything began to blur into one as her feet glued themselves to the floor as though caught in thick mud. Towards the doorway she found a stocky, enraged man towering over her. She cowered away, feeling her heart in her throat, beating at a thousand miles a minute. "Thor!" she greeted him in a high pitch, her frame declining as she backed closer to the wall between her and the man. 

Loki watched with mischief in his eyes, shaking his head as a chuckle escaped his throat. "Oh," he vocalised with a husky tone, clearly enjoying the drama, "you're in trouble now," he teased. A smirk pulled at his lips and he stepped away from the glass to watch the situation commence, his face filled with smugness. Llike a caged lion, he turned to see Thor clenching his fists, his eyebrows deepening over his eyes.

He tilted his head downwards to force his eyes further into the child's, and lowering his tone, he warned, "I told you not to go near him." He glared at her, body lowering as if he were about to attack. A small growl grew in his throat as his eyes dimmed with hatred.

Rory knew that pose all too well. He was about to snap, she'd seen it before too many times. She backed away, feeling her back press against the cool metal wall and kicked her heel against it. Darting her eyes around the room, she realised there were no other escape routes save for the door she'd come in through, the one Thor was standing in front of right now. She was trapped. 

Swallowing hard, she glanced nervously back up to the man and forced a puppyish smile, "hey," she voiced with a sheepish tone, "this isn't the _bathroom_."

At her insolence, Thor snapped and launched himself forward, arms outstretched ready to grab her as she dove for the door handle to Loki's cell. The black haired man watched from inside as the girl had managed to dodge his brother's attack and skim the glass, holding onto the handle for balance as she fell back. Thor recovered quickly and spun back around, ready to catch her as she locked eyes with Loki who succumbed to the panic in her eyes.

"1465!" he exclaimed and she reached towards the pin and punched in the numbers. She heard the door unlatch before she felt it, and fell into the room like an unbalanced mannequin. Catching herself before she hit the floor, Rory jumped back to her feet and kicked the door shut so it latched behind her, buying herself a few more seconds of life before Thor reached her. As it latched, Thor fell into the door and glared at her through the glass before turning to the lock and punching in the numbers.

She scrambled to the corner of the room as Thor stepped in with a thunderous footstep. He glared at the child like a bull ready to charge and saw her scuttle behind Loki like a squirrel to a tree. She held onto his scruffy white shirt for dear life as Loki turned his head to peer over his shoulder down at the small child cowering behind him. A sudden possessive feeling fell over him and he turned back to Thor, stepping forward protectively with a defensive expression.

"Loki, stand aside!" Thor ordered his brother with a booming voice, jabbing his finger away as a gesture. His rage only grew at his brother's disobedience and he marched forward, pushing his brother backwards. "I said move!" he repeated with a stronger tone as he stumbled back, causing the child to run towards the wall as to not become a trip hazard for the man. He caught his balance again and pushed towards his brother, shoving him backwards with a hateful gaze.

"What are you going to do to her?" he demanded with a tone no louder than a whistle through the trees. He lurched forward, shoving at him again, "you spend your time thinking you're the hero of this story, that I'm the evil one," he continued, raising his tone. "But I see only one monster in this cage," he hissed as Thor backhanded the man, swinging him against the wall, hindering him for a moment at the blast of pain striking through his back. With that, he stooped towards the girl and pulled her towards him by the collar of her shirt. As he locked her into his gaze, he lowered his tone, almost as though his voice was rupturing from his chest.

"What did I say would happen to you if you went looking for my brother again?" he tested her earnestly, his voice setting her back into the wall. She lost her balance and felt the back of her shirt tighten against her neck as Thor kept a hold of her in his iron grip. She wavered for a moment then pushed herself back up shakily, trying to match his stern, threatening gaze.

"Umm, the memory's kinda foggy...actually. But, something along the lines of ripping my head off and throwing it into space?" She fell back again and yelped in fear as he yanked her back, keeping her in his gaze. His anger threatened every bone in her body; every hair on her arms was raised. "But, um, because we're both British, I feel like it's only fair you give me a second chance and all. You know, because we're on the same side here. These American's and their mac and cheese and their gun violence, c'mon, we've got to stick together here. It's what the Queen would want," she pleaded pathetically, glancing back to Loki who rolled his eyes at her with his mouth open as he stood to his feet.

Thor furrowed his eyebrows at her in confusion and shook his head. "British? I'm not British, I'm Asgardian," he informed her with almost a disgusted expression on his face, as if he hated the idea that he'd been assumed to be anything like her.

She matched his expression and shook her head dismissively. "Is that in Europe? C'mon, we've got the same accent! Just help me out here, mate."

"Europe? No, Asgard is a realm," he answered, getting off topic for a moment before he hardened his gaze once more, gaining back his vengeful composure. "Now you're coming with me and you will answer for what you've done," he growled, standing back to his full height and turning towards the door, dragging her by the collar of her shirt.

She glanced back to Loki with a look of anguish in her eyes before she fell forward into the man and stumbled back to her feet.

"What are you going to do to her?" Loki voiced worriedly, stepping forward towards the door Thor pushed open with a finger print lock code. He turned back to him with an uninterested gaze and shook his head.

"That's none of your concern, Loki," he responded easily, latching the door behind him with the child still in his hold. "After all, you don't care for her." With that, he looked down to the sheepish child shunning beneath his gaze and pulled her along towards the living room in the hopes of finding Steve. Since he was the Captain, he decided it was best to tell him what had happened first, and they could take her punishment from there.

Rory resisted his hold with all of her strength, crying out with effort and shutting her eyes to concentrate as he continued forward as if nothing was holding him back. "Jesus! How are you so strong!" she exclaimed in clear exasperation as she crumpled backwards in defeat. Opening her eyes again, she observed the arm pulling her along like a wagon only to see the deep, chiseled muscles protruding out from his arms. She widened her eyes and gave a cry of annoyance, "are you on steroids? This is so unfair!" She dug her heels into the floor, refusing to move like a stubborn mule. Thor sighed at the squeaking noise of her shoes against the floor and turned around, switching his grip to her wrist and jerking it towards him so she almost flew through the air and fell on clumsy feet, dancing around for balance. "I'm calling the Child Line!" she threatened as he continued forward and shoved her into the elevator.

He gave a bitter chuckle and shook his head as the doors closed in front of her, trapping her in a small room with the man she swore was going to kill her. "A line of children is no match for me," he muttered, settling his eyes on the silver doors that pried back open again. With that, he took her wrist and marched forward, finding Steve in a bare room with a large table stood in the middle of it. He closed the door behind them and strode towards the unsuspecting man who raised his eyes from the book he was reading to find the teenager he didn't trust in the arms of the very irked looking god. He raised an eyebrow and addressed the situation.

"Thor, what's wrong? Why's the kid here?"

Thor glanced down to the rebellious child and glared. "She was trying to help Loki escape," he announced with a bitter tone, causing Steve to shake his head. It was clear that he wasn't surprised. 

He scowled at the child beneath him and stepped forward, lowering his gaze at her and folded his arms over his chest. "I knew she couldn't be trusted," he spoke with a resentful, but self-satisfied tone. After all, he'd been right. She was a traitor among them.

"For the record," she spoke out of line and received two annoyed expressions for it, "I wasn't trying to help Loki escape." 

They stared at her with disbelief. "Yeah, you were just going down there to borrow a cup of sugar," Steve rolled his eyes at her and watched as she squirmed beneath his gaze.

"No!" she replied in total dismay, "it was salt," she said in a softer tone. At the displeased expressions, she sighed, "I just wanted to know why he chose me," she confessed miserably and looked away. Her shoulders fell forward, it was no use trying to explain. They were so sure of themselves, they wouldn't listen.

" _Chose_ you?" Steve echoed with judgement, "you stood up to him in the middle of a kneeling crowd! You asked for this to happen!" he reminded her strongly and turned to Thor to match his look. They were both thinking the same thing. This little troublemaker had been lying since she got here.

At his words, Rory raised her head. Deep brown eyes dug into his for a moment, and she furrowed her eyebrows. " _Asked_ for this? No, no you've got it all wrong. I stood up to him, but I didn't _ask_ for this," she explained calmly, her voice subtle but articulate. With the shake of her head, she watched them for a moment but noticed their distrust was still there like a barrier. She took another breath then looked away, "what are you gonna do to me?" she uttered in defeat, bottom lip puckering. Her eyes trained the floor with a harsh stare.

Thor looked to the Captain for guidance. Steve glanced to him, folded his arms over his chest and spread his feet apart in a wider stance. He sighed and dropped his head so his eyes rested on the child's brown head of hair. She seemed just as tired of him as he was of her. "Well, she's not my kid," he stated with a hint of disappointment, not in the sense that she didn't belong to him, but because it meant he didn't get a say in what her punishment would be. With even more annoyance, he added, "and she's not living under my roof." He then glanced to Thor again, "but I am the captain of the team who brought Loki in. And Loki's your brother. She could've corrupted the mission," he uttered and turned back to the child who glanced to him but kept her mouth shut. He studied her for a moment.

Thor stepped forward impatiently, hooking his hand onto her shoulder, "I say that's enough," he decided. "She shouldn't stay here. I warned her if she went looking for Loki, there'd be consequences."

"Consequences my ass. You said you'd yeet me into the Cosmos. You might be on steroids but I doubt even you could throw me that far," she muttered under her breath, staring hard at the floor.

A dead silence filled the room, making the men's annoyance evident. Steve breathed air through his nose before he spoke, "what was that?" 

She raised her head with a glare in her brown eyes. All he saw was a rebellious child. "I said," she raised her voice and turned to glare at Thor, "you might be on steroids but I doubt even you could throw me that far."

" _Steroids?_ Who's on steroids?" a different voice rang through the room causing a pleased grin to appear on the child's face. She'd been saved. Her distaste for the men vanished as she turned to see Tony walk into the room looking a little defensive to the men he knew didn't like the child they were talking to. He studied the situation and stepped in quickly. "What's going on here?"

Steve glanced to Thor with a knowing look and turned his body to face Tony, pulling some weight off of Rory's shoulders. She breathed a sigh of relief and stepped back, the tension fading from her. "Thor found her talking to Loki," he announced, gesturing back to the displeased child watching closely at how Tony would react. She studied the sharp expression on his face turn to disappointment and a flicker of hope towards the end. He darted his eyes over to her for a moment, his expression maintained before he looked back to Steve.

"Maybe she got lost. Kid's only been here for a week, she was probably looking for the bathroom."

Her eyes brightened and she gave an astonished giggle, "that's what I said!" He shot her a wry grin then looked back to Steve whose displeased expression grew bitter.

Thor stepped in, "she knew exactly wha-"

"Think about it, Thor," Rory stepped in, an idea brightening in her head. She stifled a grin as he turned back to her, clearly irked that she'd interrupted him. "I told you why I'm sick. Why do you think I was looking for a bathroom?"

He scoffed at her, and through a clenched jaw, he replied, "you're not sick. Even Clint said you were faking illness."

She rolled her eyes and turned away disrespectfully. "So I'm skiving. Doesn't mean I wasn't looking for the bathroom."

Turning away from Tony and Steve, he faced the challenging girl like a self assured stallion, "I caught you talking to him! You entered his cell when I confronted you!"

"When you tried to catch me like some loose chicken!"

His voice raised with anger, "you shouldn't have been in there!"

"I thought it was the b-"

"Your petty lie isn't fooling anyone!"

Tony stepped in impatiently, "c'mon you two. She made a mistake, just rein it in," he sighed and turned to the child who huffed and looked away stubbornly for a moment. Although, unable to contain her curiosity, she glanced up to see if she could read what he was thinking. The subtle stern expression on his face made her drop her eyes right back down to the spot on the floor she'd been looking at.

Thor turned away. "It was no mistake," he mumbled bitterly then stormed out of the room, making it obvious his feelings for the child had not changed. In fact, they'd only gotten worse. Rory waited in silence for the second set of feet to leave the room. A terror in her heart made her brace herself for a swing as they stepped forward, closer towards Tony. She shut her eyes and ducked her head lower, hiding behind her hair.

"You know she meant to do it, Tony. Who are you going to believe?" Steve tested with a serious tone. Rory opened her eyes again, surprised. She glanced up to see him leaning over to get into Tony's line of sight. Tony raised his head to meet Steve's eyes and shot him a remorseful look. His chin lifted up to the side as though he were trying to hold onto his emotions.

"C'mon, she's got no one," he uttered softly, "so she's lost her way. When have you ever given up on someone? She's not a bad person."

Steve stayed silent for a moment, glanced to the child, and with a soft sigh, walked out of the room. In the quiet, Rory looked up to Tony. Her head trembled for a moment at the stern expression in his eyes. Backing off, her arms raised to her chest in preparation to protect her head. He studied her body language and widened his eyes, everything he was feeling evaporating at the idea that she thought he was going to hit her. He rushed forward, about to embrace her in a safety hug, but watched as she cowered back and covered her face.

"Kid, you're alright. I'm not gonna hurt you," he uttered solemnly and slowly approached her. He felt her flinch as he wrapped his arms over her trembling body in a warm hug. She tensed for a moment before her body melted into his and she leaned her head onto his chest, listening to his slow heartbeat. A sigh escaped her mouth and she shut her eyes, trying to feel comfortable. His warmth radiating onto her left her feeling safe, taking in the smell of his clothes and his cologne. He seemed safe. But Rory wasn't used to warm embraces and comforting guardians.

She pulled away and looked up to the man with uncertainty, feeling as though this was some sort of trick. Waiting for a moment for him to take a swing at her, she cocked her head. He studied her then gave her a soft, sympathetic smile, but she frowned.

"No, I - I did something wrong. What is this? What are you - what kind of trick are you pulling here? Just get it over with, okay? Just do it!" she exclaimed loudly, expressing anger, but her shrinking shoulders and bent neck made it obvious she was terrified.

Tony sighed and shook his head. "I'm not going to hit you, kid," he informed her and watched as she sent him a look of distrust.

The very thought of what she must have been through hit him like a bike on a brick wall. As he looked at her, he studied the old marks on her skin, faint bruises on her arms and scars on her hands. She cowered in front of him, bending forward to protect as much of her body as she could. Concern for her wounds and the abuse she'd faced gnawed at his brain. He shook his head as his eyes glistened. "No one's going to hurt you again, okay? I'll never let anyone near you, I promise."

She held her breath for a moment, completely dumbfounded by his words. Removing her hands from her face, she watched the man and slowly stood straight again. In an attempt to regain her old demeanour, she shot him a faltering smile. "I thought you weren't my dad," she choked in a lighthearted tone, though it was strained and hoarse. 

He smiled and rolled his eyes. "C'mon kid. You're supposed to be sick. Clint'll be wondering where you've gone."


	7. Chapter 7

# Barton Vented

_Swaying fields of an open valley stalled Rory into thinking she was safe. A fresh breeze tingled at her skin and she lifted her head, allowing her hair to drift away from her face. The warm weather surprised her. Despite the summer month, they'd been expecting rain all of June and the day had become an unexpected surprise. Rory's mother and father had decided to take advantage of the day and invite her aunt and uncle to a picnic by the lake they'd often visit when the weather was nice enough._

_The day was set out to be beautiful. Beneath a clear blue sky, Rory and her family sat on a red tartan picnic blanket, cut sandwiches, and grapes on paper plates set out among the grass. Perfect weather for a picnic, but not a perfect family. Even before they'd arrived, Rory's mother had expressed her opinion on what Rory was wearing and told her to change twice already, taking it a step further to reprimand her on how ungrateful she was, how dressing like a boy left her a disgrace to the family name. Her father wasn't much help, if anything, he agreed with her mother. If she didn't start arguing with her, he would. And they always found something to critique her about._

_Because of this, Rory sat among her family feeling stubborn and bitter. Her older cousins were sat down by the lake with their feet in the cool water, taking in the sun that shone directly onto them from where they sat. As she looked around, she noticed her mother sat a little ways off behind her, talking to her father. Her aunt and uncle were just out of sight, sitting beneath an old willow tree. When she looked back down to the blanket again, the sandwiches had faded away, in their place sat a severed watermelon leaking its juice out onto the soft material, a knife sat between the two halves. She glanced up again quizzically to see her older brother stood above her, an apathetic look in his eyes._

_"You tell Max and I'll throw you in it," he hissed at her in a warning tone, and she watched him absently as he crouched down and took the long knife from the scene. As he left, she glanced back to the lake to see her younger brother, Max, swinging his feet over the ledge of the lake, splashing water playfully into the still part and watching the ripple effects he created. He was oblivious to the inevitability of the day's events._

_Her eyes tore away from her youngest sibling at the sound of a shrill scream piercing through the air. Her brother stood over a bloodied mess of mangled bodies, four of them in a heap like butchered pigs. She widened her eyes and stood to her feet, shock ripping through her system, the realest emotion she could feel. In an attempt to find her brother, she walked forward but found the pull of her wrist forceful enough to keep her from him. Turning, she found her mother holding her back, tears in her eyes, mascara running down her face, a traumatised expression. She shook as she pulled her back._

_Sirens wailed in her ear when she turned back again, and she watched her brother taken away in handcuffs. She glanced to her feet in grief, and when she looked up again, a kneeling crowd crouched before her, facing away towards a tall stranger. Darkness clouded the new scene, cobblestone beneath her feet and a damp smell in the cool air. At the presumptuous smirk on his face she hesitantly turned back to her parents who were trembling beneath her, her mother's hands on Max, and her father hissing at her to get back down. She recalled what they'd done to her earlier and forcefully moved her head back to the man, knowing he was her definite form of escape._

_"Kneel, or I'll have you kill your family." She heard him threaten, and she stepped forward, disobeying his order deliberately, only to turn back and find her parent's limp bodies on the floor, dead eyes staring into her soul. Her brother lay among them, still fighting for his last breath as he stole one last look from her._

_"It's all your fault," he choked. His head dropped back down to the floor as his body gave in and his life form faded from his eyes._

_With fear controlling her now, Rory turned back to see the raven haired man inches away from her, an intelligent, intrigued look in his eyes. He studied her for a moment, glanced once to his staff and then back into her eyes. "Was this an act of undying loyalty to your new king, or revenge upon your own kin?" he begged the question. Rory felt her shoulders fall and she gave a defeated huff._

_Her eyes met his, and she fell prisoner to his broken gaze. There was something in him that matched her pain. In a pang of relief she took a breath. "Maybe...both?" she responded, more than confused as to why he spoke like some Victorian king, but chose against offending someone who clearly wasn't messing around._

_He seemed to smile at her in amusement and shifted his weight casually to his other leg. The kneeling crowd around him seemed to become invisible, now she was the only one he could see. "What do they call you?"_

_She glanced down to her dead family around her, and recalled that disgusting name she hated so much. The corner of her mouth pulled for a moment, and she turned back to Loki with a decided expression. "Rory," she answered, glancing around the kneeling civilians sheltered in darkness, "they call me Rory." The last thing she saw was him placing his scepter to her chest._

Rory blinked her eyes open and found herself in her room, a warm duvet wrapped around her like a cocoon. She waited for a moment, trying to recall what she'd just dreamed. Her phone screen flashed at a notification, and she leaned out of bed to take it. As she studied the countdown notification to her brother's birthday, she began to frown. With the new day and the fresh set of emotions, she felt fragile and guilty, and she let her emotions get the best of her. She tapped on the notification and unlocked her phone, seeing the picture she'd set for the countdown of herself and her younger brother by the lake when she was twelve, a toothy grin and messy brown hair pointing at all ends. They were both so young and innocent, unbeknownst to the tragedies of what lay ahead. A sob fell from her throat. 

When she finally left her room, it was well past noon and she could hear someone in the kitchen as she walked through the corridor. A feeling of dread and disappointment coursed through her and she wondered if it was obvious she'd been crying. Insecurely, her head dropped to the floor as she stepped into the room, finding the familiar brown boots Clint often wore, and suddenly feeling a little more safe, lifted her head back up.

He raised a quirky eyebrow at her, and with an amused smile on his lips, gave her a sarcastic greeting. "Morning." 

As far as Rory knew, Clint was oblivious to almost everything. The things Tony had asked her about, the things Thor and Steve had accused her of, even the suspicions around Loki's mind control. He hadn't a clue. And she intended to keep it that way. He was sweet and kind and saw through her actions and that's what made him so perfect. She wanted to keep him that way, like a photograph frozen in time, and so she neglected to mention anything of what had been happening these past few days. Clint seemed none the wiser.

Loki, on the other hand, was brimming with questions. _Who is this girl and why does she still hold such an interest in me? Why did she risk her protection of this wretched Tower just to come and see me? Why did she murder her parents so willingly? And why did she follow me around like a shadow until the Avengers took her away?_

He couldn't understand why, but something deep within him had to know. His curiosity could not be settled until he got all of the answers out of this girl. He just needed an opportunity to speak to her, but with him held captive in a cage, and Thor's beady eyes constantly on guard, there was no way he'd be able to see her again. Not unless he bargained for it, though he had nothing to bargain with. In fact, he wasn't entirely sure why he was still here. There had been talk of returning him to Asgard, but Thor didn't seem to be in such a rush with the distraction of a potentially murderous teenager running around. He didn't want to leave when he knew she could be a threat, despite her size and age. 

Loki pondered as he laid on his comfortable white bed, leg crossed over the other, staring at the ceiling. The next time Thor would come and talk to him, he'd form a plan of seeing the girl again.

### 

As Steve passed the hallways that Monday morning, he crossed paths with Bruce, who'd just walked out of the laboratory for the first time in a few days. He studied him with curiosity as the weary man rubbed his eyes, head sunk into his neck, and shoulders draped like curtains. "Doctor Banner," he addressed him with formality, causing the man to snap out of his loud thoughts and glance to the man with a widened gaze.

"Oh! Ca- Steve." He fumbled for his glasses over his eyes and pulled them off to look at the man. Noticing the withheld, bothered look behind his eyes, he grew concerned for his new friend and decided to check up on him. "How is everything? I think I've been cooped up in the lab for a couple of days."

The hard look on the man's face remained as he thought back to the ruckus that teenager was causing. "Loki's still in his cell, but that punk's already tried to make contact with him. I don't think it's safe having her around here," he noted dutifully towards the dazed man who rubbed his eyes with his finger and thumb to try and focus on the man. 

"You mean Rory? She's spoken to Loki?" he verified and watched the man nod to him with a brooding gaze. He hugged his white lab coat a little further over his body. "Do you think Clint was right? Is it Stockholm Syndrome?"

He scoffed bitterly and looked up for a second. "I don't think she was ever brainwashed. That kid's got Clint and Tony eating out of the palm of her hand with those lies. I don't believe a word that comes out of her mouth, and I'd advise you to do the same," he uttered distastefully. 

Bruce watched him with concern, but nodded his head causing the grey curls of his hair to bounce with the same trembling spring that was in his head. "Oh, okay," he muttered, feeling a sense of guilt hit him as the soldier passed him. After all, he had been the one to talk to her first and believe what she had to say. He'd felt sympathy for her, but with someone so notable's opinion on her to be so poor, he began to second guess his own judgement. 

### 

"Barton, you got a minute?" Tony called as he saw the back of the familiar man walking off into the empty corridor. He stopped dead and turned back casually to rest his eyes on the Tony. Stepping away from the usual spot he'd familiarised beneath the ceiling tiles, he made sure to keep Tony's attention on him.

"What's up, man?" 

Tony's hand reached behind his neck and he shrugged. "Quick question of the rhetorical variety," he stated, stalling his steps as he waited for Clint to catch up and walk by him. He then strolled down the corridor with the man, glancing to him casually as he spoke. "Rory's at school, right?"

Clint gave him a short nod with a careless stare, "yeah, dropped her off this morning. This about your ever-growing Cadbury collection?" he joked.

"Ah, it's a little bigger than that," he responded then glanced back to make sure no one was around. "How's she been lately? Getting into trouble at school?"

He furrowed his eyebrows with a clueless expression, "school trouble? Nah, I wouldn't allow it. Kid's top notch, settling in okay. I think she plays well with others."

"Yeah, not all of them," he corrected him quietly.

Clint turned to him, almost tripping over his own feet. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, nothing. So she's been normal?"

"What's this about, Tony?" He stopped in his tracks and turned to face the man who sighed and glanced away.

"Kid's just a normal rebellious teenager, that's my two cents," he inputted then continued at the look of Clint's unsatisfied expression, "but some people don't like where she's heading."

Clint stepped back for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Well if they're concerned about her, they should come to me. But I don't think she's a cause for it. Like you said, she's just a normal teenager."

"My thoughts exactly," he said and slapped the man's shoulder in a friendly fashion, "glad we had this chat." With that, he walked off with a casual swing in his step, feeling satisfied that Clint was none the wiser with Rory's situation. He didn't seem to know a thing on her file or what had gone on with her and Loki. Clint eyed him suspiciously then went back to the ceiling tile.

### 

As her phone rang, Natasha stood up from her seat at the computer to answer. "Yeah?" she asked as she placed it to her ear, already knowing who it was. She glanced around the empty room still in bright white light. Her eyes landed on a pile of disorganised papers and she moved to straighten them out.

"Romanoff? This is Agent Hill, I need to talk to you about Loki's little detainee," Maria's stone cold tone passed through the speakers of her phone.

She stopped for a moment, dropping the paper and frowned. After her own research, she'd began to feel a pang of sympathy for the child who'd since gotten on SHIELD's radar, no doubt in a bad way. "Yeah, the kid's been living here since the rescue. What's the problem?"

"That's the thing. I've just come across her file and it seems as though she's a bit of a law breaker herself."

"Oh?" she hummed, forcing surprise, "anything bad?" As she half listened, she took a seat at the desk and began scanning the sheets.

"It's looking that way. Look, you know I wouldn't do this if I didn't have to, but we're gonna have to take her in. You can't have a criminal running loose in Stark's building."

"A criminal?" Natasha echoed with interest, "you think she's that dangerous?"

"It's not exactly like she's enhanced, but she's definitely going to have to serve some time. We just need to do a quick run over, cross off some boxes and probably hand her over to the police. I'm sorry it has to go this way, Nat. I know Barton adopted her," she apologised with a hint of sympathy in her voice before the line went quiet.

Nat sat there for a moment before giving up with the pile and pushing it away from her. "You're only doing your job. Kid's in school right now, though."

"Yeah, we've sent some agents down there now. I just thought I'd give you the heads up."

Sighing, she stood to her feet. "Okay, guess I'll give the news to Clint."

"Good luck."

Natasha hung up with a heavy heart. She stared hard at the messy pile and placed the phone back into her pocket to find Clint.

As she walked out, Clint slipped discreetly out of the ceiling vents and fled the building to his car. Without missing a beat, he put it in motion, turning towards the exit and speeding down the road to get to Rory before the SHIELD agents could.


	8. Chapter 8

# There is One Impostor Among Us

"Clint, what are you doing here? School doesn't end for another three hours," Rory reminded the man who'd interrupted her from her chemistry lesson. He glanced warily behind him as they stood in the reception of her school. When he decided it was safe, he grabbed her shoulders to notify her the situation was dire.

"I'll explain on the way, kid. Just get in the car, don't let anyone see you."

"Well that won't be difficult. I'm a middle child, no one sees me," she retorted as she walked past him and began strolling to the car, a roll on her eyes.

"Just get in the car."

The blinding light of day shone upon the student as she stepped out of the automatic doors of the school. She squinted for a moment to see the empty cars around her and found Clint's parked out by the building, not exactly in a designated parking place. Raising an eyebrow, she walked over and pulled open the door, slipping into the seat and throwing her bag in the foot space as Clint got in beside her.

He started the car and sped out of the parking lot faster than Rory deemed safe. "Alright, calm it Lightning McQueen, why are you rushing around all of sudden? Who's out to get you?" she commented with a heightened tone as she rolled down the window.

"Put that back up," he scolded and wound the window back up himself. Rory stared at him as he jerked the wheel down and turned a corner, listening to the screams of the car as he slammed his foot down on the gas.

"Okay, okay. You don't wanna tell me who's after you, that's fine."

Their silence encompassed them in a whirl of a loud sports car engine and Clint's angered breaths. It was as though a gear had been jammed and something was going to implode. Rory decided to tread carefully.

"Who's after _me?_ " Clint echoed with an accusing tone as he turned back to the girl with a harsh glare in his narrow green eyes. "Just quit it with the act, Rory. I know everything," he snapped and flew into another silence as he turned back to the road.

Rory shifted in her seat. She clenched her jaw and felt a gust of anger blow through her. "Oh, c'mon man. What've those mugs been telling you? Steve and Thor are out to -"

"Steve and Thor have a right to be wary about you," he interrupted impatiently, "and for the record, they didn't tell me a thing." His voice grew quieter and he breathed deeply, "nobody told me _anything_."

She glanced up to him with furrowed eyebrows. "Well, if nobody told you anything, how do -"

"That's not important. C'mon kid, I'm a spy. I find out things I'm not supposed to for a living."

"How much do you know?" she tested reluctantly, her future being torn from her like picking off a wax strip. Every word he spoke pinched just a little bit more.

"I know about Loki, I know the lies, I know you murdered your family willingly and you poisoned your aunt and uncle," he uttered and pulled up at the Tower, stepping out and looking around. With the knowledge that no one was around, he pulled her out of the car and took her into the elevator.

She sent him a look of fear as the doors pulled to a close. "What are you gonna do to me?" a whisper left her throat where a lump began to grow, too hard to swallow. Her heart hammered in her ears and left the whole world silent around her.

He gave a stern look and pulled his jacket further over his body. She waited for her punishment to be announced...

"I'm gonna help you."

### 

"Hill, what's up?" Natasha asked as she answered her phone again. She hadn't gotten a chance to speak to Clint yet; she'd barely moved since she'd gotten her first call. Her interest had fallen to Rory's file and what exactly Hill had found on it, in fact she was still looking.

"Romanoff, I thought you said she was at school."

She furrowed her eyebrows, "well she should be. It's Monday, isn't it?" She stood up from her seat and placed the file back down on the desk for a moment. 

"Yeah, it's Monday. Which leads me to believe you've got a mole on the inside. Any idea as to who that could be?"

Natasha stopped and thought for a moment, then glanced up at the ceiling. She sighed as she stared at the cracks between the square tiles. "I'm gonna have to call you back."

"I'm sending a team your way."

### 

As Tony strode through the corridor, he noticed Natasha coming his way and stopped before she could pass by. He glanced to the phone in her hand and the look on her face and instantly knew there was something going on. His mind was already poking him with sharp needles of Rory's options. Her future wasn't looking bright. "Nat, what's up?"

The sun shone in through the window and hit her hair. Soft curls of red framed her grave expression and lit up her eyes. She felt the warmth of the light and stopped for a moment to take it in. Her gaze rested on the concerned man in front of her. "SHIELD's after the kid and she's not at school," she informed him then narrowed her eyes, "you don't have anything to do with that, do you?"

He stepped back and examined the suspicious look on her face. Surprisingly enough, he wasn't entirely sure how Rory had gotten away with it. It certainly wasn't anything to do with him, not yet. But maybe Rory just chose the best day to skip school. Or maybe a little _bird_ had told her... "The kid's not at school? You think she knows?"

"I think someone knows," she responded, relaxing in his presence knowing he was being honest. They both stared at each other for a moment. "There's a SHIELD team on its way and if we don't find her..."

"Wait." Tony stopped her in horror, "you're going to let them take her?" He waited for a moment in the hopes that she'd jump at the chance of denial. Disappointment hit as the agent maintained her expression and continued staring at him as though he were a painting she couldn't understand.

"It's SHIELD, Tony. They're pretty certain she's done more than she's let on."

"No, she's not the type, she wouldn't," he denied then backed off with distrust. He flicked an accusing finger at her, "you don't think we should turn a blind eye, point SHIELD in a different direction?"

Natasha furrowed her eyebrows and pressed on the topic. She clutched the phone a little tighter in her grip. "She's beyond saving. I think we should do what's right."

"What's right?" Clint echoed with a look of innocence on his face as he greeted the two of them clearly in a tense conversation. He glanced between them and caught Natasha's gaze who sent him a concerned expression. He maintained his look and shook his head. "What's going on?"

"Clint," Natasha warned with importance in her voice, "what've you done with Aurora?"

Tony stepped forward a little past Natasha and gave him a stronger gaze, "don't tell her, Barton. There's a SHIELD team on its way and we need to meet them when they get here. If you know where the kid is, send her far from here," he advised with just as much importance in his tone.

Clint watched the two of them and shook his head. He plastered on the best poker face he could and shrugged at them obliviously. As far as they were concerned, he knew nothing of what his adopted daughter had been up to in her past. Now was not the time to fill him in. "The kid? Isn't she at school? What's SHIELD after her for?"

"Stop the act, Clint. You know I can tell when you're lying. Where is she?" Natasha snapped with a sterner, more impatient tone. She stepped away from Tony to direct her attention completely onto Clint. He knew something they didn't. She could sense it.

He watched her draw closer to him and shrugged, "I don't know what you're talking about, Nat."

As they spoke, Thor overheard the conversation and felt his stomach knot. If the girl was in the Tower unattended, he knew just where she'd go. With Rory on his mind, he instantly turned and marched down towards Loki's cell. His fists clenched.

If Rory was in that cell again, not even Odin himself could hold him back. He'd warned her enough times already, he'd known from the start she was no good. And now the team that the Son of Coul had been a part of was hunting her down. He had no choice but to take matters into his own hands.

Relief sparked in his head as he reached the door and found the room devoid of teenage girls. Instead, he found delight in his brother's eyes as he met them, and his feet glued to the floor. Loki wanted to talk. Thor hadn't the time - there was still a wanted criminal loose in the Tower that he needed to help bring in.

"Brother, how it pleases me to see you," he simpered as he watched the irritated expression on Thor's face grow. Getting up from his place on the bed, he walked towards the glass screen opposite him. A smug expression upturned his lips.

"Loki, I don't have the time -"

"And I won't take up much of it. I want to strike a bargain."

He narrowed his eyes at him and shook his head with a confused smile on his lips. "Strike a bargain? Loki, your imprisonment is not a deal to place bets on. You have to face punishment for your crimes."

His smile darkened, "how is it that I'm stuck in this cage whilst the girl roams free?"

"The girl? She won't be roaming free for long," Thor responded with a wry smile and a husky voice.

Pausing, Loki watched him, a mask over his concern. "How do you mean?"

### 

"Aren't you supposed to be at school?" Bruce questioned Rory, who was cautiously wandering around the back of the Tower where Bruce had happened to be hiding out too. She yanked her head up to him in shock, jumping out of her skin. After looking for so long for somewhere someone might not be, she hadn't expected to be found so quickly.

A small smile poked at her lips at the relief that it was only Bruce. "Yeah, but Clint took me home. I'm not sure why," she lied, hoping Bruce hadn't been informed of anything. Clearly luck was on her side.

He gave a nonchalant shrug and glanced away awkwardly. "Your guess is as good as mine."

### 

On the other side of the Tower, a peaceful door knocked shoulders with a team of SHIELD agents and fell unexpectedly to the floor with a loud thunk. Like bats out of hell, dark dressed men and women with merciless, vigilant expressions on their faces stepped through the room, guns in outstretched arms ready to shoot if needed. They'd been told to shoot as a last option, but stay on guard. She might be a teenager, but they didn't know what kind of teenager she was.

At the sound of damage, Steve drew closer to where the noise had come from to see the agents patrolling the corridors. He stopped where he was and furrowed his eyebrows, irritation setting in. No one liked being ambushed in their living space. It was a personal attack. "What the hell are you doing here?" he barked as the agent in the front stopped, causing the rest of them to copy his movement.

He lowered his gun and sent the man an earnest look. "Sorry for the disturbance, Captain Rogers, but you're harbouring a wanted criminal in this premises and we need to take her in," he decreed, waiting for the man to step back. When he didn't move, he added, "if you don't cooperate, we'll be forced to take you in, too, sir."

Steve gave him a testing look then stepped aside for them to continue their search through the building. "Who is it you're after?" he called over as they continued walking by, and the agent at the back turned to him with an apologetic look.

"The girl."

His hard expression faltered and he froze for a moment. _Wanted criminal_ , those words circled his head, haunted him. He'd known the girl was bad all along, so why was it coming as such a shock to him that SHIELD were after her now? She did, after all, try to help Loki escape his cell, twice. Taking a breath, he watched as the team began to separate out as the corridor split into two ways. Without his knowledge, he began to follow them, only to hear Tony's protests after a few steps. He quickened his pace and met the man at the smaller group of SHIELD agents who were now raising their guns defensively.

"Sir, if you don't cooperate, we'll be forced to restrain you -"

"Restrain me, huh? I _dare_ you, see what'll happen!"

Steve raced to the back of the team and looked overhead of the dark dressed agents, standing out like a sore thumb in his brown leather jacket and fluffy blond hair. "Stark, do as they say," he advised, causing the man to snap his angered gaze over towards him. Sharp, feisty eyes met his and he found himself shrinking at this new side of the man. He'd seen him angered before, but this was a whole new level, this was a guard dog sniffing out an intruder.

" _Do as they say?_ Are you _hearing_ yourself Rogers? No! I'm not having this, you can't just come in here acting like you run the place. This is _my_ building. Get the hell out of here!" he fumed at them, standing in front of the man with the gun pointed at his chest as though it were a Nerf gun.

"This is your last warning!"

Steve watched with curling fingers. As the man opened his mouth once more, he was beaten to the chance by firm footsteps behind the captain.

"Hold your fire!"

He whipped his head around to see a stern, brown haired woman in a tight SHIELD suit storming forward. Locks of silky brown hair sat neatly at the back of her head in a bun, and piercing blue eyes met those of Tony, who trained his look onto her.

"Sorry Stark, but this is beyond your power. Not even Barton's adoption papers can save this girl from her fate. Do the smart thing and hand her over," she ordered in a strong, hard spoken voice that demanded power.

Refusal danced in the man's eyes for a moment before he clenched his jaw. Around him, the agents still had their guns trained on him, waiting on the command of their superior. Behind him, he could hear another team communicating as they continued through his building. His hatred began to spike. "No, you can't do this Agent Hill. You need a warrant," he growled, knowing well that she didn't.

She gave him a questioning stare and settled on a half smile, "pretty sure I don't. Now move, or be moved," she negotiated with him and watched in irritation as he lifted his arms to take up more space.

### 

Loki stood in his cell, staring ahead at the unreadable expression on his brother's face. His lungs tightened in his chest and left him clamping his jaw down. The air around them grew thin with the absence of Thor's words after the sentence he'd left him with. "Thor, you can't let them take her. She's dangerous," he pleaded with willful eyes, although the sentence took a moment to spark concern into his brother's expression. 

He flicked his eyes up towards Loki and knit his brows together. Taking a step forward to the glass screen with intrigue, he bit into what Loki was hinting at. "What do you mean she's dangerous? She's just a child."

In frustration, Loki shook his head. "No! You don't understand. Why do you think she did what she did?"

A shrug lifted the god's shoulders as he continued looking at his brother with indifference.

Loki took a breath and shifted uncomfortably, as though the words on his tongue didn't want to come out. With a lowered gaze, he leaned his chin down so his eyes could stare up into his brother's. "She's not human," he uttered huskily.

Thor blinked. _Not human, what does he mean not human? I've seen the girl, she's nothing but a rebellious teenager_. "What are you saying?"

"Look at her!" Loki expanded the length of his arms and upfaced his palms as though he were losing patience. Time was ticking on, and he didn't know how long he had left before SHIELD took her into custody. Thor just stood there, leaving Loki to press on. "She killed her own blood to join me! Who does that?"

"I thought you brainwashed her, Loki," Thor challenged with narrowing eyes at the new information he was receiving. What is he saying right now? Rory did this on her own free will?

Swallowing down a breath to simmer his heart rate, he drifted his head sideways like a rocking horse slowing to a stationary position. "I tried to brainwash her," he revealed with a look of importance in his eyes, "but I watched her. When I touched her chest with the staff, her eyes remained the same colour. She followed my orders, but she did so voluntarily."

A hardened gaze drifted onto Loki as Thor glared at him, breathing air harshly from his nose. "And you're only choosing to tell me this now!"

A wry smile reached his lips and his gaze softened, "I didn't think it of importance." When Thor took a step away with a sigh, Loki pushed on. "You can't let SHIELD take her, Thor. I need to talk to her, she's dangerous."

"And you're not?" he retorted with a lick of hate in his eyes before it was replaced with earnestness, "have you forgotten the reason you're being kept in this cell?"

"I haven't forgotten, brother," he responded softly, skillfully playing to Thor's weaknesses, "I promise you can put me right back in this cell the moment the girl is no longer a threat. I've reflected on what I've done, and I regret it sorely. There is no offer big enough I can make to redeem myself, but what I can do is protect anyone else from her harm." With sorrow gleaming brightly in his shiny green eyes, he bore his look at Thor, "please, brother. Let me do this."

Thor stood there for a while, weighing out his brother's words on scales. Loki always had something up his sleeve, but he had no doubt of what he'd said about Rory. He knew what coming out of such a trance looked like, and Rory wasted no time recovering. Despite this, he also knew Loki was never so eager to put his life at risk to save Midgardians. _What is Rory, anyway? What DNA must be running through her system to protect her from the touch of Loki's scepter?_

When he glanced up at Loki again, his patience seemed to have grown back. His shoulders were no longer hunched, and the desperate expression in his eyes had fallen lazy. A last look of promise danced on his face, and Thor breathed heavily. 

"You help me isolate the girl from the rest of the Midgardians, and then you go right back in your cell," he negotiated, and became satisfied with the nod of his brother's head.

Loki masked a smug smile on his lips with a firm expression. _Oh, brother_ , he thought with pleasure, _you always have been too quick to trust me_.

### 

"Aurora Wolfe? You're coming with us," a firm tone found its way caged in Rory's mind. 

She widened her eyes and slowly turned around to meet four darkly dressed SHIELD agents stood vigilantly, watching her every move. A small smile poked at her lips and she studied the soldiers in front of her. "Is this gonna be the whole 'anything you say can and will be held against you' speech, because if so, David Tennant." When there was no immediate reaction, she frowned and clicked her tongue. "Tough crowd."

"You are under arrest for suspicion of the murder of your parents, you will be taken into SHIELD custody for questioning," the brown haired man with sharp eyes informed her then stepped forward slowly. "Put your hands in the air."

Her arms slowly reached the space above her head and she allowed the man to cuff her hands behind her back. "Will you write the head teacher a note of absence for me? I don't want them wondering where I've gone," she requested, her form easy, almost as if it were a mere inconvenience for her. Walking away with them, she heard Tony's shouts and looked over as they walked past the room he was in to see Natasha and Steve holding Clint and Tony back. Clint pushed past Nat to get to her, but she watched in dismay as Steve slammed the door shut behind them. She was on her own.


	9. Chapter 9

# Jail Bird

Dark grey walls surrounded the table in the middle of the room Rory was restrained to. Her head drooped down, heavy eyelids threatening to close. The dark had a habit of making her fatigued. She'd spent the first ten minutes of her isolation staring ahead at the mirror, trying to figure out if there was someone there behind it, watching her. After glaring at where she assumed their eyes might be for a while, she grew bored again and found herself studying the chains of her handcuffs and how much length they'd given her to move around. Not enough to leave the table, but enough to reach the arm of a person sitting opposite her, if their arms were rested far enough on the table. 

She'd been left alone for ten minutes already. A reserved, stoic woman had promised her she'd be back in a minute. But Rory was used to lies. And she was used to being left alone for longer than expected. Her memory stirred to when her mother would leave her in the car for hours whilst she was out shopping. Her breaths became slower as her head began to droop onto the table, and before she knew it, her eyes were shut tight and dark brown hair covered over her in a blanket of safety.

### 

"You think this is going to work?" A man with dark, quiffed hair asked Maria as she walked by him. He'd been staring ahead at the surveillance footage of the girl in the interrogation room, who was watching space above her head in the mirror. Maria stopped with a confident smile on her lips, observant eyes digging into the dubious man. He hadn't been there long enough to know their tactics for children. 

Leaning back, she gave a small scoff. "Leaving her on hold? It's the oldest trick in the book." With a reassuring, lenient look in her sharp blue eyes, she slapped his shoulder. "She'll break like glass. Don't worry." With that, she took a pile of files from the desk and began walking away as the man glanced back to the screen, seeing the child rest her head on the desk with her arms as a makeshift pillow. 

Rory jerked awake a while later to a loud slam and sat up with an aching in her head. Metallic, blurry colours drew static fuzz in her mind and she darted her eyes around the room to remember where she was. She landed her gaze on the familiar woman walking in from the door with a reserved expression on her face. The file in her hand was all she could pay attention to. Hill took a seat opposite her. 

"Do I get to call someone?" Rory inquired as the robotic woman studied the photo in the corner of the paper. Her heart buzzed in her chest like a fly repeatedly hitting a window, leaving an uncomfortable noise in her ears. She clenched her jaw and tried to focus her attention on the woman, keeping up her facade. 

Hill continued reading as she answered. "Maybe if you were in a prison."

Her words filtered into Rory's brain and left her furrowing her eyebrows. "Well, put me in one of those?" she suggested with an unsure tone. _Prison, where else would I be? A mental asylum?_

"I'm afraid you're staying put for the foreseeable future. Well, until we decipher what you are, exactly," she replied unsympathetically. Her eyes had yet to meet Rory's, and it left her on the edge of her seat. 

Cool air brushed against her skin from the vent above them, leaving small wisps of brown hair to tickle her cheeks. A strand landed in her eye, leaving her to blink rapidly and uncomfortably. Breaking her focus on Maria, she pulled her arm up to fix her hair only to feel a sharp yank of the table pulling back, and when she looked to her hand she remembered she was in cuffs. With a heavy scowl, she declined her head to meet her hand and awkwardly pulled her hair back behind her ear, then pulled back the skin cupping her eye to remove any other obstruction. Maria finally stopped looking at the file, only to raise a disparaging eyebrow at her.

"Nat told me you were dangerous," she noted, and watched as the girl dropped her hands back onto the table and raised her head back above her shoulders. 

She settled her breathing and attempted to ignore the rush of air numbing her face. "Really?" she verified with intelligence beyond her years. "And what do you think?"

Maria shifted her weight on the table, leaning forward a fraction and dug her eyes into the child's. She ignored the draft above her head. Her hair was so well tied back, not a strand moved under the breeze. "I think Romanoff's a good judge of character..."

"I can sense a 'but'."

A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth and she leaned away. "But, despite what your file says..."

Rory lowered her head so her eyes were positioned upwards. "You don't think I look the type."

"Well, I've always said 'never judge a book by its cover'. You've got a patchy background; rough childhood, huh?" she mused, a rhetorical question as she flipped over the page of the file to backtrack what she'd already read three times. Rory shifted in her seat and glanced away for a moment. Chills prickled against her cheeks and down her neck. She felt the softness of the cotton against her arms and warmed to its touch, trying to hold on to some sense of comfort. When Maria looked to her again, the girl had retreated to the safety of her grey jumper, trying her burrow her head into the collar. Despite having control of the AC, she elected against turning it off.

With hunched shoulders, Rory dropped her chin into her palms. Her stomach twisted. "It wasn't _that_ bad," she mentioned and held back a shudder. 

" _Wasn't that bad?_ " Maria pressed, feeling tension begin to build in the air. "You moved schools seven times. Your mother's side all perished in the same month. Lost your grandparents on your father's side the year before. Eldest brother went to prison..." She glanced up to see if her expression had changed, but the girl just dug her head further into her jumper, "I could keep going. As far as funerals go, you've had your fair share."

Rory watched her hands begin to tremble and chewed the inside of her cheeks. She needed escape. With a desperate plea in her eyes, she studied the woman in front of her. "That's fine and all that you know that, but what's that got to do with me being here?"

"You're here on the suspicion of the murder of Camilla, James, and Maxwell Wolfe," she answered with a sharp drill in her tone that cut the edge of Rory's skin. Maria watched her eyes dull and a frown pull at her lips. She seemed to grow smaller in size, bundled up in that oversized jumper she was shielding herself under. If she looked closely, she could see the girl's body tremble in the cool AC directly above her head.

Taking a deep breath, Rory stilled her body for as long as she could. With brown eyes that cut like knives, she impaled the well preserved woman opposite her. "That doesn't explain why I'm not in a prison with all the other criminals. Instead I'm stuck in some weird box of superhero containers - no offense," she noted, taking a dig under the skin. 

Hill clicked her tongue and traced her chin diagonally in the air. "None taken. You're in a SHIELD holding because I need to give you a quick once over to make sure everything's in order before we send you off to a facility."

She narrowed her eyes with deep suspicion. " _Quick once over?_ Like an analysis? For what? If you think I'm guilty, just send me to prison."

Maria leaned on her elbows and propped her head forward. "You seem pretty desperate to get there. Any reason why that might be?"

"'Cause I'm already done with your stupid interrogation and it's probably warmer in prison than it is in here," she jabbed and felt a small smile on her lips, "plus, I'm young, you know. Someone will probably pity me and protect me from the others and we'll be boos and she'll take care of me and I'll watch her back and then when she gets out of prison she'll probably wait until I get out and come pick me up and show me my adoption papers -" she stopped herself when she noticed the look on Maria's face. With a sheepish smile, she tucked her head back into her jumper with a small giggle. 

"Okay," she gave a sigh and decided to take a different angle. "So you're heading in the same direction as Dylan, your older brother," she surmised and watched with satisfaction when she finally got a real reaction from the girl. 

Her brows dug down that caused creases to appear in her forehead. "My brother didn't deserve to go to prison. Don't assume to know what he did," she growled like a threatened terrier.

Hill pulled out some more papers with an innocent look on her face. "I have his file right here. Says he massacred your aunt, uncle and three cousins," she mentioned, flashing her a glance of the file before she faced it back towards herself again. 

Rory's fists balled and she straightened her back, moving her head up. "He wouldn't have gone to prison if it wasn't for me."

"And how do you come into all of this? He murdered them in cold blood. Butchered them like pigs."

Grinding her teeth at the memory, she shook her head. "It's all my fault, I shouldn't've let him!" she snapped and rubbed her temples after hearing her voice echoing back at her in the spacious, metallic room. 

Maria gave her an intrigued look. "You think it was your fault?"

"It was _all_ my fault!"

"Even the murder of your parents?"

She waved her hands in the air with irritation. "Obviously!"

Maria, now with the satisfaction of reaching her breaking point, continued to press. "And that's why you were living with the Avengers? What did you plan on doing with them? What did you plan on doing with Loki?"

Suddenly, Rory's temper melted. Her flushed cheeks faded back to their usual pale colour, and she thinned her eyes at the woman. "What?" she blurted out, "why would I want to do anything to the Avengers? I barely knew them, they -"

"What were your intentions with Loki!" Maria cut her off impatiently, tired of her lies. 

She leaned back in shock and blinked. Her head fizzed with confusion, insides bubbled with anticipation. Taking a moment to breathe and form a reasonable answer, she gazed up at the space by the mirror again, as though she were looking into a camera to share a knowing look with. When she glanced back at Maria, she shrugged. "I don't know, he just seemed charming. Felt like tagging along with his little cosplay fest, who's he playing by the way? Edmund?"

Maria widened her eyes, feeling a sharp blow to her chest as though someone had struck her with an arrow. She studied the girl's body language, the honesty in her eyes and realised she wasn't telling a hint of a lie. " _Who's he playing?_ What are you talking about? Loki's a demi-god from Asgard," she informed her with the utmost importance, and a lick of sarcasm.

Rory leaned away, eyes drawing blank. She shook her head. "Is that in the Netherlands?"

"It's in space."

" _We're_ in space."

Maria found her eyes rolling in her head and she rubbed her temples. "It's not on this planet," she uttered and fumbled with the files to refocus before she glanced up again with a raised eyebrow. "Wait. You thought Loki was a _human?_ "

She moved her head sideways with a concerned expression, "...he's got an English accent. What? Are you telling me I'm not human because I don't speak dumb English?"

" _Dumb English?_ " Maria echoed with an insulted tone.

"American," she verified.

"Let's not start that fight." She shifted sideways. "So if you didn't know Loki was from a different realm entirely, why did you kill your parents for him?"

She shrugged indifferently. "My parents had it coming, honestly," she thought for a moment with a smile, "he just seemed like a good..."

"...a good...?"

"Well, you know..." She was now fighting a cheeky grin, "he noticed me, addressed me, asked me my name and called me by that respective name. I think he even complimented me."

"What are you getting at here?"

"I mean, if he wanted to adopt me I wouldn't say no..."

She stopped shuffling the papers in her hands and drew a blank look, giving up with her reserved facade. "You wanted - You know what? I-" she gave a deep sigh, "let me get this straight. You murdered your own parents in cold blood in the hopes that he'd become your father instead?"

"In those five minutes, he treated me better than either of my parents had in my entire life. What was there to decide?"

"Jesus, that's messed up."

Rory reciprocated the disturbed look right back at her. "What's messed up is that you put him in handcuffs and locked him up. You're saying he's a god? Like Zeus? Is that how you'd treat Zeus if he dropped by to say hi?"

"If Zeus decided to kill 80 people in 2 days, yes."

She gave her a surprised expression, although she seemed quite impressed. "Okay, so stick me in prison then."

"You seem uncomfortably okay with that option."

She flicked her wrist. "Look, you said it yourself. Compared to what I've already been through? Prison would be a dream."

"So other than the murder of your family, there's been nothing strange happening in your life?" Maria questioned, making sure that the enhanced box could definitely be left blank.

" _Strange?_ " she echoed then backtracked, "oh, you know, just my family's constant abuse. Does that count as strange? I guess Dave always acted a bit strange, but then again my brother always used to give him chocolate so I wouldn't put it past him. Honestly, I'm shocked he's still alive."

She furrowed her eyebrows, knowing that through all the files she'd read, there had never been any mention of any such person. " _Dave?_ "

A small smile crawled at Rory's lips and she opened her mouth to speak, but as she did, the door to the interrogation room burst agape, causing a bright light to shine into the room, and a man's silhouette to hover in the entrance. "Don't ask her about Dave!" he yelled in an attempt to save himself from another long and confusing explanation.

Rory hopped in her seat, pulling against her restraints. "Bruce!" 

"Banner, what are you doing here?" Maria called with a cold stare in her eyes, but a flash of worry behind them.

He fidgeted by the doorway, not used to being in the spotlight. Taking a step forward, a hand flew to the back of his curly grey hair as a comfort mechanism. "I need to take her from you. Loki needs to talk to her," he explained, aware of how crazy he sounded.

Maria stood from her place at the bench. "Why is Loki out of his cell?" she queried with worry spiking her voice.

Bruce stepped closer and glanced nervously to the child who sat still as a rock, immune to the cool breeze still wafting her hair into her face. His eyes met back with Maria's and voice quietened as he spoke to her. "He told Thor she's not human, and she's a threat to everyone. We didn't want to compromise SHIELD, not when she's this dangerous," he uttered quietly, glancing back to the unsuspecting expression on Rory's face.

Maria stepped forward so her voice wouldn't carry as far, then sent him a harsh, irritated expression. "We have protocols in place for this kind of thing. What does he mean she's not human?" she hissed.

Bruce shrugged his shoulders and shook his head to express his inexperience in this arena. "She's powerful. He said the only way to keep everyone safe is if Loki talks to her, gets her to stop whatever she's planning."

" _Planning?_ " Maria raised an eyebrow and turned back to the child for a moment, "the only thing this kid is planning is forging Loki's signature."

He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and finger and exhaled. "Okay," he exclaimed, raising his voice as to catch Rory's attention when he stepped towards her. "You've caused enough trouble as it is," he informed her impatiently, a sternness in his eyes she'd never seen in him before. A dark anger loomed in the back of his head. He looked towards her handcuffs then back to her eyes. "What are you?"

She turned sideways, wrapping her fingers around the steely chains, that familiar metallic smell smothering the air. With a lump in her throat, she raised her head to meet Bruce's and took a wavering breath that left her eyes watering. "Okay," she uttered and shut her eyes to remove her tears. Maria, seeing Bruce lean forward towards the child who seemed to trust him, stepped over to them. Rory opened her eyes and fell into his piercing green ones. "On all levels, except physical," she looked away for a moment to stifle a smile, "I am a wolf."

Bruce groaned and clasped his face with his hands, turning around to express his irritation. "Rory, I swear to God, this is no time for your jokes! What the hell are you because Loki is out there waiting to get his hands on you and no one knows why! So you better start talking!" 

She blinked, heart fluttering in her chest at those words. _Loki is out there waiting to get his hands on you_. Chills ran down her back and she smiled at Maria who thinned her eyes. "Let me talk to Loki."


	10. Chapter 10

# On a Nuclear Level

"What do you expect us to do? Just swoop in and take her out of SHIELD custody, tell her we broke you out of your cell so we can break her out too and just expect two convicts to do the right thing and not blow the whole world up?" Bruce ranted in a fury, having to take extra care to suppress his anger. Loki stood before him, out of his cell beside Thor who was vigilantly making sure he wasn't about to make a move. 

Despite Loki's demeanor, he couldn't help but fear the Midgardian before him. This was, somehow, the same person who'd slam dunked him in the Tower like he was beating a wet towel in the boys changing room. Even so, a smug expression hung on his face and he gave a simple shrug. "That's exactly what I expect you to do," he hummed with a low, menacing tone. 

Bruce sighed and drooped his head so his hand could catch it and rub his eyes. "I can't believe this is happening. You really think she's capable of blowing up all of SHIELD?" he verified, almost rhetorically.

With a small nod, he said, "I think you'd find yourself lucky if it's just SHIELD she blows up."

Loki was truly having a field day. Manipulating his peers was all a part of the chaos he could cause around the Avengers. And Rory was a keen learner, with a little work, she'd make a great ally. All he needed to do was convince these idiots that she could do her worst so they'd break her out of that petty prison. Once he got what he wanted, he'd make his escape with her.

Thor side eyed his brother with a sour, hurtful expression. He still lacked the trust needed to let the man loose on this planet, although his love still hung in the balance. But he knew SHIELD well by now, and he'd grown to like them. If there was even the slightest chance that they were in danger, he'd do whatever he could to save them. Even if it involved trusting his delinquent brother. 

"She won't listen to anyone else. She didn't know how to control her powers, she relied on me for that. That's why she kept coming to see me whilst she lived here. If you don't get to her soon, I'm afraid this whole planet will perish," Loki uttered with total, painstaking importance in his tone. He bore his gaze at his brother and watched as his deep blue eyes melted at the thought of his beloved planet falling to shambles. 

Thor nodded his head decidedly. "Then it's settled. We must retrieve the girl and isolate her from other civilians."

Bruce ran his hands through his messy hair and shut his eyes tight. When he opened them again, he reluctantly agreed. "Okay, I'll talk to Agent Hill and explain the situation. Keep an eye on Loki and talk to Tony to find a place far away from human life, if you really think she's reached the point of no return."

Loki nodded his head firmly, "it's been too long. I'm surprised she's not blown up the entire building yet."

Bruce gave a panicked breath and fled the room in search of their prisoner.

### 

"I can't allow you to do this, Banner. We have this under control," Agent Hill warned the man who clenched the chains of the handcuffs Rory was attached to and yanked them from the table. A clatter of small pieces of metal spread over the steel table as Bruce pulled the girl up from her seat by the arm. She stumbled into him in a desperate attempt to find her feet whilst Bruce stormed by the woman. 

"You can try and stop me, but you've seen what happens when someone gets on my bad side," he warned her as he passed, and at the look on her face, a pang of pity hit his mind. "This is for your own safety." Set on his mission of removing the girl from other life, he proceeded towards the door with determination.

Rory walked by him, struggling to keep up with his forceful strides. She'd been astonished by his strength, _how can someone so gentle be so strong?_ Raising her head to read his expression, she observed the creases by his angered green eyes and looked back down again. Whatever Loki had told them, it seemed to have worked. "Are you taking me to see Loki?" she queried, trying to mask her hope so he wouldn't second guess his actions.

He glanced down to her for a moment as he made it to the door of the building, avoiding the SHIELD agents going about their business. "Are you going to cause an explosion?"

She shut her mouth for a moment and thought. Then, staring ahead at where they were going, she replied, "on a nuclear level. Complete detonation." The certainty in her tone made her wonder if she'd even tried to force sarcasm. When she looked to Bruce again, their pace had somehow quickened.

"Where are we going?"

"Just sit still, try not to blow up," he replied, opening the door of a shiny black van and gesturing for her to get in. 

### 

Minutes turned to hours in that van. By the time they'd gotten out, Rory had managed to convince herself she was actually going to blow up. In fact, she'd sent herself into a full blown panic attack just to make it more believable. Her breathing sounded laboured and shallow as Bruce gently pulled her out of the back of the van once they'd reached their destination. He held her with careful hands, the tips of his fingers brushing her skin, walking her onto the crispy yellow grass of a dehydrated field. Through her panic, she couldn't concentrate on her surroundings, only the way her black and white Vans looked against the crusty earth beneath her feet and how aesthetic it would be on a Polaroid photo in a scrapbook of her adventures to America. That was, if she didn't blow up. Sweat began to trickle down her spine.

"So you've retrieved her still in one piece. What a pleasant surprise." She heard the soothing voice of a man she'd known, but everything was too scarce to focus for long enough on whom it belonged to. She wanted to throw herself off a cliff to make the shaking stop. She was certain she was about to die. Not only die but take the whole world with her. That voice needed to get out of close proximity. Not that they'd have time. She was about to explode! 

She finally found the strength to yank her head up and found her mouth gaping as she looked to the faces around her. Bruce looked concerned and terrified for her. Steve was grimacing. Loki was fighting a smug expression on his face. Thor stood further away, a sharp glare in his distant eyes. It was too much. She dropped her head back down to the floor and continued trembling, breathing as though just waking up from a nightmare. She heard their voices continuing but the words didn't carry to her ears. It was a long moment before someone's fingertips brushed against her chin and tilted her head up. She met Loki's cool green eyes and grew lost in them as he read her like a book. He seemed impressed but she couldn't remember why. Her heart beat faster than a thumping stampede of wild horses, blood pounded against her ear drums and no one was helping her situation. They stood and talked as though at a family gathering catching up on the colleges their kids were attending. No one could even acknowledge her state.

Loki glanced over to Bruce with cunning lurking deep in those emerald crystals. "Handle her with the utmost care if you value your life, Doctor Banner," he ordered and turned back to the suffering child beneath him. She shuddered as though she'd been left out in the cold all night. He was astonished by her acting skills; in fact she'd almost convinced him she was going to blow up. Enough to barely concern him. 

Bruce stepped towards him gingerly, dropping his hand from the small child's arm. "What's going to happen to her when she -" he swallowed uncomfortably. There was no avoiding the seemingly inevitable. And he had to face the consequences head on. Bruce was a scientist at heart; he had to know the results on her body. Would she even survive this? He side eyed the unresponsive child, "when she goes off?" he uttered, trying to put the situation lightly. Although he wasn't sure there was any way to do that.

The wind around the four of them whistled through the sparse, dead trees around them. Tony had found a nice little spot for the explosion to take place, although he'd expressed his reluctance to do so very determinedly. They stood on the remnants of a nuclear testing sight. There was no living organisms around for miles, besides the four people stood in the field. Even the birds had abandoned the skies above them, knowing that there wouldn't be any carcasses to feed off. Bruce thought it probably for the best. If this girl were to go off, they'd be lucky to find even a tooth for body identification later on. On second consideration, he came to the conclusion that perhaps the Asgardians could make a quick getaway, and although he wasn't certain he'd survive the explosion, he could trust the Hulk's fixation on staying alive enough to probably make it out. The only person he wasn't certain of was Rory.

Loki turned from Bruce to the terrified child and slipped his fingers beneath her chin so she would finally look at him. He wasn't even sure she was conscious of where she was at that moment. His eyes narrowed as he dug into her wild brown eyes to try and read her. She was playing excellently well into the scenario he'd set for her, yet he could feel her fear as though it were real. He was having a hard time finding the line between real and fake with her, and something told him she was, too. 

The lack of life around them provided enough silence for her shallow breaths to meet his ears. They were so genuine, he wondered if she knew she wasn't going to blow up. "Perhaps it won't be fatal. She's had a few difficulties in her past with this. But if I'm going to be entirely honest with you, Doctor...even I don't know for certain. Aurora here has never actually caused a significant explosion yet," he surmised and slowly dropped his hand from her face with a notably worrisome gaze. Bruce matched it well. He opened his mouth to respond once more before a rushing engine cut him off. The three of them turned back to see Iron Man coming to a swift landing just before them, and a black Porsche shortly following from the other direction, parking up beside the van with a high screech. 

Tony's armour disappeared around his body as he stepped forward to address the situation. Clint, Natasha and Steve climbed out of the car and steadily approached, well aware of the dexterity of the vulnerable child before them. 

"All right, play time's over," Tony announced coolly as he stopped before Loki. He pointed at Clint and Nat, "you two, back in the car. I know you mean well but if this kid goes off you're the most likely to die first." He hesitated a moment, as though reading back on his words, "no offense." The two of them shot him distasteful looks.

"None taken," Clint retorted, but made no attempt to move.

Tony turned to Steve, "and you, I don't even know what you're doing here. You don't even like her," he barked insult.

Steve narrowed his eyes and stood his ground. "Like her or not, this goes a little bit past friendship, Tony. This girl is putting lives in danger just standing there. I knew she was trouble since the first time I laid eyes on her and nobody listened!"

"Oh shut it you old bag! She's as much dangerous as you are," he shot back at him and turned to Thor. "You need to take your brother and get him out of here. She might blow up and that's got us all in the same boat, but something's telling me he's got a free pass out of this." He narrowed his eyes at the dark haired man who repelled everything he threw at him. "And as for you." Tony turned to Banner who already had an idea of what he was going to say. Bruce shot him a warning look and began to shake his head. "I know - no, sto- just listen. I know you're going to hate this but just hear me out. Maybe you could talk with the Other Guy -"

"Tony, no-"

Tony raised his hand as though to silence him. "Look, Nat's here if we need her. You got me right here with you. If you get the Other Guy to just come out here and take her a little further from any civilians - just for extra precaution-"

"I really don't think that's a good idea. Who knows what would happen-"

"It's a risk I'm willing to take." He gave him a dominant look filled with control and confidence that Bruce had a hard time battling with. The anxious man side stepped, dropped his head to the ground to consider the greater good as Steve stepped forward voluntarily, grabbing the girl's arm to signal his courage.

"I'll take her." He eyed Tony with the same air of confidence that Stark hated seeing on anyone else. Tony shut his mouth and clenched his jaw, speaking to him fluently through facial expressions. Steve battled with him verbally. "I've lived out my life fighting to save other people's lives. You know what was in that serum your father gave to me. I can take her towards the ocean. I've served my country all these years, it's only fitting that I-"

"Not another word, Capsicle," Tony uttered fiercely and dropped his gaze onto the child still trembling by them, unconscious of human activity around her. He sighed softly, "I let her stay here. It's my fault this is happening. If anyone should do this, it's me," he spoke with heavy shame and guilt on his tongue. Before anyone could comment on what he spoke, he stooped forward as his metal armour quickly layered his body once more, and scooped the defenseless child up in his arms. 

Clint, who'd been sulking behind Rory all this time, and who'd heard Tony's argument, instantly fled forward and threw himself onto the child before Tony could lift off from the ground. "NO! SHE'S MY CHILD! I ADOPTED HER! IT'S _MY_ FAULT NOT YOURS!" he exclaimed almost pettily, as though making the final claim. Everyone yelled at him as though he were a child running off at Disney Land. 

"CLINT!"

"Clint for Christ's sake!" Tony hissed at him as Bruce stepped forward. 

He gave a deep, strained sigh and nodded his head. Taking the girl's arm back in his grip, he locked eyes with Tony. "I'll do it," he concluded, ignoring the fact that both Tony and Clint still had their hands on the bomb. 

Natasha stepped forward, just for the hell of it, and grabbed her other arm. "If you're all going down, I'll go down with you," she muttered loyally, strong promise in her eyes.

Steve was about to argue how stupid this was before an unknown stranger approached the site seemingly out of nowhere. Rory was finally calming down from her panic attack but hadn't notified anyone of it because the realisation that she was not, in fact, going to blow up was finally kicking in. It had gotten so tense and thick with drama that she couldn't leave it like that. It was enticing. She turned her head just enough to see the figure of a young boy walking towards them with purpose in his step. She squinted her eyes at the familiar face.

"Who the hell are you?" Clint asked as he turned around to see the boy.

"Kid, you shouldn't be here. It's not safe," Steve called over to him with authority in his tone. 

Despite this, the boy still stayed, glancing over to Loki and Thor before finally landing eyes on the girl in the middle of the bundle. It took her a moment longer to recognise who it was.

"Buster?" she called over, surprising each one of the Avengers. The bundle around her slowly backed off when they found she was no longer shaking.

"Wait - so she's not gonna blow up now?"

"Who the hell is Buster?"

"What in the name of Bill Nye is going on?"

Rory ignored them all and slanted her head at the boy. There was nothing in the world that could've prepared her for seeing him here in the middle of a bunch of dead things caught red handed with the Avengers. _How am I supposed to explain this to him? And why the hell is he here? Did he follow me? God this is going to be a hard one to get out of_. "Buster, what are you doing here?" she called to the brown haired boy who seemed a lot older as he stared at her in the daylight, thin eyes studying her like a hawk, a slight frown pulling at his lips.

He stepped forward as the Avengers watched in confusion, waiting to see how this would play out. "Rory, there's a lot going on right now that you don't understand."

"Speak for yourself."

Ignoring the comment, he moved a little closer so that he stood inches from her. She studied him in bafflement and shook her head. "I'm not who you think I am."

"You're not a friend from school?" she clarified with a heightening tone.

He shook his head sympathetically, "you've known me a lot longer than school," he purred. Understanding her confusion, he surmised, "I don't normally look like this though. I'm from Asgard, my name's -"

All of a sudden, it clicked. The only being Rory had known, really known, was her dog. She widened her eyes, "DAVE!" she exclaimed and watched as all of his emotions drained from his eyes in the flash of a lightning strike.

"No, no, my name's not Dave!" he argued as Bruce turned to Tony in utter and complete astonishment.

"Dave's _real?_ " he uttered just beyond a whisper, loud enough for everyone else to here.

Dave was quick to defend his honour, "listen, my name's not actually Dave, it's an Asgardian name, it's -"

Clint's jaw dropped. "Dave _MyCat!_ I remember!" he yelled in excitement, finally able to understand what was going on. He grinned as he turned to Nat who shot him a warning and focused back on the situation at hand.

Steve furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head, "your _cat?_ " he verified and gained a few groans in response.

Clint jumped in to set things straight, "no, _her_ cat!"

Steve shook his head and turned to Rory, "he's your cat?"

She shot him a humorous grin and laughed lightly, "he's not my cat, he's my _dog!_ "

"Well, clearly he's not a dog," Natasha reminded her and she nodded in response.

Dave shook his head to once again try and explain, "no, I'm a shapeshifter. It's what I'm trying to tell you-"

"Wait, so you're a shapeshifter posing as her _cat?_ " Tony jumped in, well aware that he was only making things more complicated but he thrived in making light of serious situations.

" _Doberman_ ," Rory cut in quickly.

"What?"

"He's a _dog_ ," Clint reminded everyone with the utmost eagerness. Thor and Loki looked on in bemusement.

"He's not a dog, he's a _shapeshifter!_ " Natasha corrected impatiently, swatting at Clint for making it worse.

"I...don't understand." Steve shook his head in defeat and put his hand to his temples.

Feeling mutually the same, Dave turned back to the girl and ignored everyone else. "Can we speak in private, Rory?" he requested lowly to which Rory shrugged carelessly.

"A moment alone with my dog? Why not?"


	11. Chapter 11

# Out Like a Light

"So all these years, you've just been lying around my house eating dog food and barking at passing neighbours like an actual dog?" Rory recounted, finding it challenging to come to terms with such information. She narrowed her eyes at the boy she thought she knew. "You made me pick up your -"

"I didn't make you do anything. I was given a job to do, I had to commit," Dave responded with a sharp look in his eyes. The two of them stood away from the crowd of Avengers who were all quietly talking amongst themselves in apprehension of the situation at hand. No one really knew what to do.

She took another moment to study the young boy's dark brown eyes. "So, that time you chased after that cat and I had to follow you through five separate gardens..."

He shared a look with her before blinking to break the tension, "that wasn't a real cat, that was -"

"Oh yeah, I'm sure it wasn't a real cat," she cut him off intolerantly and turned away in resentment. Her entire life wasn't as it seemed. Her best friend growing up wasn't even of this Earth. It didn't make any sense. She glanced up at him again with a wary expression, "so who are you really?"

He gave a deep sigh before a yellow light slowly crept up his skin, passing over him as though a layer was being peeled away. As it reached his head, Rory watched in awe to find a pair of crisp, wise brown eyes gazing back at her. She didn't recognise his face in the slightest, but the way he dressed reminded her of Thor and Loki the first time she'd met them. His armour was a dark turquoise and a silvery cape flowed from his shoulders all the way down to his ankles. As though he were in some perfume commercial, his eyes twinkled, skin flawlessly glowed in the sun and breeze brushed past his body at just the right angle for the curls of his silky brown hair to flow a little off to the right. He looked like a model.

"My name is Colby Einarson, and I was sent here thirteen years ago to protect you from the touch of Loki's scepter," he explained with honour in his tone and a frame so strong it carried all his nobility with it.

Rory's jaw dropped. She stared at him breathlessly, grasping for words like a fish out of water. "I - I'm sorry, you what?"

He stepped forward patiently. "I know all of this must come as a shock to you. But you're not alone in this universe. There are many realms in the universe not unlike your own, except a lot of them are much better than this one," he took a dig at the planet they stood upon but Rory simply shrugged her shoulders. She wasn't about to argue. She knew this planet sucked. Well, rather, the people on this planet made the planet suck. "I live on a realm called Asgard." He gestured towards Thor and Loki a little ways off, eyeing them suspiciously, "it's the same place the princes come from."

She choked, " _princes?_ I just thought they were just snobby Londoners - you've got to be joking." Hesitantly, she turned to see them again and swallowed hard. "They must think I'm so disrespectful," she uttered and turned back to him with a clenched jaw.

He fought off a humoured smile. Glancing over, he shared a moment in Loki's gaze and quickly averted his eyes. Even without looking at him, he could feel Loki's burning glare on the side of his face.

"Wait - you were sent here thirteen years ago because of what?" Rory backtracked, absolutely stunned that this man knew she was going to get poked in the chest by a glowing staff. She couldn't help but lose herself in the silkiness of his eyes as he responded.

Colby watched her eyes and smiled humbly. "On Asgard I am a warrior, I serve the king. However, I tend to fall under the watch of my good friend Heimdall every now and then when he needs me. You were one of those circumstances." He bowed his head toward her with a sparkle in his eye that made Rory's cheeks blush.

"Oh," she peeped, flustered with the realisation that beings beyond her planet recognised her existence. "This Heimdall person, I suppose it was just good luck that he knew about me."

He tilted his head to the side in consideration and shook his head. "Well, no. Heimdall sees everything, every life form in this universe. He's really rather talented. He communes very closely with another friend of mine who sees the future. They work together to issue safety in defenseless souls such as yourself," he explained formally with a charming demeanour.

Rory blinked twice. When she could barely fathom what he'd stated, she nodded her head as though she had. "Ah, makes sense," she smiled courteously and glanced back over to the Avengers and Loki who were glancing to her every now and then. "So I guess your plan went to shit, huh?" she assumed, taking a sympathy plunge into the deep end of the pools of his mesmerising eyes.

Colby watched the people in the background as he furrowed his eyebrows. Tony and Clint were growing restless, Steve was eyeing them warily. The rest were idly trying to make light conversation as they waited. He tried to avoid the gazes of Thor and Loki. "No, dear girl," Colby denied sweetly like a teaspoon of honey dipped into her tea. He stepped forward and gently poked the centre of her chest. Rory looked to it. "I put a protection charm on you, reinforcing it every year to make sure Loki's scepter could never reach your heart." He retracted his finger and sent her a chivalrous smile when she watched him in awe.

"So, like a booster jab?" she compared. She tugged on the strings of her hoodie as Colby nodded encouragingly.

"Yes, little owl. Exactly like a booster jab," he smiled sweetly with a tender laugh. He glanced back to the crowd again and stepped forward closer so she could hear him. "That charm protected you from Loki's possession, it stopped you becoming a cold blooded killer. You would've murdered hundreds, but now you and your family are safe." Rory's expression faltered. _Your family are safe_. Colby studied the girl and hunched over just a little in order to catch her gaze. "Your family, where are they? You're living with these enhanced beings for the present time, but your blood relatives..." When she wouldn't meet his gaze, he lifted her chin with his finger.

She stared up at him for a moment, a flash of grief passing over her. Her head shook and tears brimmed her eyes. A cold sting traced his skin as she pushed him away so she could no longer suffer under the torment of his perfectly naive gaze. "Sure, the stupid staff didn't work," she muttered through a sob, "but did you really expect me to pass up the chance of a lifetime? My freedom?" Cold silence met her once she'd finished. Then, a soft, understanding sigh. She felt him look away.

"And what of your brother? Surely you wouldn't..."

Rory's face crumpled. Weights dropped onto her head and left it hanging parallel to the grass beneath her shoes. Fat tears dropped from her eyes, tending to the nature. At least she was giving something back. And if she thought about it hard enough, decomposition of bodies is great fertiliser. Really, she was just tending to god's garden. _Or...is it Odin's?_ She found the strength to stare him in the eye for a moment. "He's dead. It's all my fault."

Colby ran a hand through his silky brown hair and looked at the sky in a moment of stress. He seemed to dance on his feet before he placed a hand on her shoulder. A reassurance. She looked between his hand and his eyes and tried to ignore the blotches in her vision. "That's - that's okay, little owl - look at me. I can fix this," he assured her with a gaze that cemented her own, "but not here. You have nothing left here but a lifetime of imprisonment. No, I have to take you to Asgard," he informed her terribly quietly.

A fierce ticking ran through Rory's brain. _You have nothing left here_. She glanced back hesitantly to the Avengers growing evermore impatient. "But, what about my new family?" she offered in a broken voice. Deep, in her heart of hearts, she already knew the answer.

"Do you really think they'll forgive you for what you did? Come now, think sensibly here, owl. These people don't know you, they only know what you've done. And even if they could forgive you, they can't save you from a prison cell," he explained pitifully. Tightening his grip on her shoulder, he brought her in closer. Frail bones and soft cotton pressed against his armour and he wrapped his arms around her hard. The way he wished he could've the times she'd cried in her youth. She'd stroke the fur on his neck with her thumb and bring him onto her lap, quietly sobbing into the curve of his shoulder.

Rory felt as though she'd been brought into the arms of someone she'd known her whole life. And, in a way, she had. Her face burrowed into the cool metal plate of his armour as she felt his chin on her head, thumb brushing against the nape of her neck repetitively. She knew that soothing motion anywhere, and it brought her straight back to England, years ago after fights with her parents and bad days at school. He felt of home. She was safe in his arms.

"Okay," she whispered brittly into his chest. He planted a kiss on the crown of her skull and left a warm tingling sensation there moments after he'd broken contact. With one more glance back to the Avengers, she was gone. The world around her snapped into a vibrant blur of colour, barricading around the two, a tunnel to space. Free air gushed beneath her feet like an open waterfall. She looked up to Colby who glanced down to her with a reassuring smile. He looked perfectly natural, despite the fact that they were flying through the air at a thousand miles a minute. His hair fluttered gracefully in the rush of wind like a horse racing a sunset.

The two of them landed the jump in the Bifrost, a beautifully open dome with a platform planted dead centre on the floor. Rory dropped back from Colby with a wide smile on her face and a floating sensation in her heart. A steely noise echoed through the building and she pried her eyes to the centre, where a regal, armoured, brawny man holding a magnificent sword was watching them with a humoured smile on his face. Despite being several feet away from the godlike man, Rory couldn't help but notice how pretty his eyes were. A delicate golden yellow so wide they could capture the entire universe in them. Her jaw dropped.

"Colby," he greeted serenely, "I saw you coming." Placing the sword behind his head in a holster on his back, he dropped down from the platform on sturdy feet and walked over to the two of them.

"Why does that not come as a surprise, my friend?" the warrior responded in a husky voice. He took Rory's arm and began walking. "Aurora, this is Heimdall, the man I was talking to you about earlier."

Rory turned to him as they walked away from the Bifrost. "Yeah," she responded with a dumbfounded expression, "that much, I gathered." Before she could say anything more, they'd exited the building and her eyes landed on the golden architectural masterpiece Asgard had to offer. "Oh," she breathed as though the air had been knocked from her lungs, "so this is Asgard."

They both grinned with pride. Heimdall stopped at the end of the building and looked over to Rory, who'd copied his actions simply because his sheer power commanded it. "I'm sure you're aware, Colby," he announced, glancing to the warrior, "that bringing a human into this realm is a clear violation of Asgard's laws, and thereby an act of treason." He watched Rory's expression sink.

"Of course," Colby smiled fondly, "and that is why the king's guard was in a conjured spell of unconsciousness, he couldn't attempt to escape and stop such a terrible crime from taking place," he responded in the same tone his friend had used. Heimdall glanced back down to Rory and winked comfortingly. She sent him a thankful smile.

With that, Colby took Rory's hand and began running towards the castle.

Rory hadn't run so far and so fast since primary school. She no longer bared the stamina for it and Colby's long strides took up two of hers. Her body was positively being dragged over a rainbow bridge by a god. She couldn't take it. "Dave!" she cried breathlessly as her lungs caved in. "Where are we going!"

Colby stopped so abruptly, Rory smacked into him. He turned to her with a vicious glare, "for Odin's sake, Aurora! That's not my name!" he snapped, tightening his grip on her wrist. She stepped back in terror, brown eyes dancing with it the way they used to when he'd see her parents hit her. He immediately knew what he'd done and stepped forward. "Aurora, wait I'm sorry," he soothed quietly, a hand reaching out towards her.

She shook her head in hurt. "You know I hate that name," she whined. In a moment of doubt, she uttered, "where are you taking me, anyway? You're committing treason just having me on this planet. What are you going to do?"

Colby hesitated and reached out again, but she flinched away. "I'm sorry, little owl," he softened his tone, regaining that charismatic persona he'd held earlier on Earth. "I never meant to frighten you. Just - just come here. I'm going to take you to that friend I was talking about - the one who can foresee the future. She might know what to do," he explained with honesty. He reached for her once more and she hesitated.

"Why do you call me that?" she breathed with glistening eyes, "little owl."

He exhaled softly and poised himself. "The owl," he informed her carefully, drawing closer, "is a guide to the underworld. It's associated with darkness. My people often look to owls when they need to look inside the darkness in themselves and find a way out," he explained genuinely. That soft cotton came back to his skin as he held her shoulders. She watched him warily. "You didn't like to look at the night sky when you were a little girl." He watched her face light up in remembrance. "I always wanted to ask you, Rory. I wanted so desperately to break from my form, bring you close and ask you, 'why do you fear the stars?'" Her face lit up red and he simpered. "It took years for someone to notice and ask you. And you told them -"

"'I'm scared I'll see one go out'," Rory finished for him, a surprised expression on her face. No one had thought to care about her opinions as a child. She was often dismissed. It came as such a shock now, that someone had been hearing her voice all this time. Someone actually valued her opinion. Her guard dropped once more and she smiled softly.

Colby dropped his head to get to eye level, "the owl helps us to see the darkness in spite of the light. No matter how terrifying it is, the dark needs acknowledging. Most people watched the night sky for the light. You avoided it because you saw too much of the dark."

Rory blushed terribly and glanced back to the castle to distract herself. "Oh, you're definitely a glass half full guy, aren't you?" she smiled through clenched teeth.

He laughed lightly and took her hand. "Now come along. We need to find my friend before we're seen."

They continued running down the bridge until they finally met the magnificent, towering building pointing towards the darkness of the sky. Rory could barely keep her eyes ahead of her. She wanted to take in every last detail of this fairy tale palace. Deep down, there was a persistent voice reminding her she'd never see anything like this again.

Rory and Colby reached a room far down the right wing of the castle. Before they approached the doorway, Colby took Rory by the arms and stared deeply into her eyes. "Now listen close, little owl. Lady Revna is just behind this door in her quarters, but you mustn't come in, do you understand? I've put her in enough danger as it is, but for her to be in the same room as a human on Asgard is asking too much of her. Now I want you to be very still and stay exactly where you are in this room, okay?" he informed her, guiding her back into a shallow stone room stacked with spare furniture and boxes. Rory glanced around doubtfully but nodded her head. She'd known this man nearly her whole life, she needed to show him a little trust despite the brooding feeling of doubt in her gut.

"Okay," she whispered and backed into the small room. He shot her a reassuring smile and closed the door softly behind him. Waiting in the darkness, heavy boots slowly faded out of earshot and Rory was left entirely on her own. She waited five minutes, then ten with no sign of him whatsoever. So she decided to wait longer, twenty minutes turned to thirty, to forty five.

When almost an hour had passed, she knew she couldn't wait any longer. Rory crept forward through the shadows towards the door and creaked it open ever so slightly to shed a line of light into the room. She peeked through the door and heard the absence of people so stepped out a little more and whispered for help. "Dave!" she hissed quietly, but to no avail. She slipped out of the room and shut the door softly behind her. The castle seemed entirely empty. Her footsteps echoed in dead silence against stone walls. She tried again. "Dave!"

Nothing.

Adrenaline pumped through her body as reality set in. Nausea crept up her throat. Her blood beat hard against her ears. Rory did the only thing she knew to. The exact thing she'd been told not to. Slowly, she tiptoed towards the door he'd pointed to and opened it. One last time, she cried out his name as the door widened into a ginormous bedroom fit for a queen. "DAVE!" she yelled through a rush of panic, her heart still thudding sickeningly against her chest. She stepped in to find who she'd been looking for right behind the door, the most cruel expression hardened onto his face. His hands strung out as though he could ring her neck. Rory's body jolted back.

Colby's words came out like bloodthirsty growls. He was barely comprehensible as he slowly tread forward with clenched teeth and stiffened fingers. "That's the last straw, little owl," he snarled. She slowly backed away, eyes fixed on him like glue. "I have made every sacrifice I could to make sure you were going to avoid your fate," he hissed as her back hit the cold solid wall behind her. He drew in, "I made sure you kept me around so I took the form of that mangy mutt, I dealt with your shit for thirteen years - thirteen years renewing that fucking charm merely to make sure Loki couldn't get his hands on that stunted little mortal brain of yours. I protected you, I was there for you when you cried, I followed you across the world just to make sure you'd avoid this downfall. I slaved away after you, sacrificing my own valuable years - and yet here you are, still a failure. Still that stupid girl who couldn't even bare to look at the night sky because she was an insolent fool! And surprise surprise, you're still an insolent fool! You're only alive because I allow it! Because I kept you from death!" he snapped, trembling with rage. His hot breath tingled Rory's neck as she looked for an escape, but he was faster, stronger and bigger than her. 

"Then I attended that revolting school crawling with vermin! And you couldn't even tell it was me! Do you have any idea how many classes I had to sit through just to get you to see me? The only reason you still have breath in your lungs is because of me and this is what I get in return? And if I ever come by that abysmal excuse for a prince, Loki, I'll make sure he never sees another sunrise again!" he growled, barely containing his rage. He slammed his hands against the wall beside her head and heard a whimper of terror. 

"Dave. You caLLED ME DAVE! OF ALL THE DOG NAMES IN THE WORLD - I HAD TO DEAL WITH DAVE FOR THIRTEEN FUCKING YEARS. AND OH," he gave the most ironic chuckle Rory had ever heard, "it doesn't even end there, because you can't let go, can you, Aurora? You've never been able to let go, have you?" he taunted, bringing his face in closer so his nose was almost touching hers, "you've held on so tightly to all the things you cared about until you strangled them to death. So you dropped it all, didn't you? You just left everything you had in a big pile and you ran. Because in the end, you'll always run away. You can't face anything with any ounce of confrontation. And Odin have mercy on whoever ends up with you because you have the commitment level of the leaves on the trees in the winter," he snarled like a viscous dog with rabies. Seeing the fear running wild in her eyes like a rabbit running circles, he sighed and readjusted himself over her. "You couldn't even spare your own brother's life. You had to murder him too, didn't you? What? Couldn't share the spotlight trying to impress the evil prince? What is wrong with you?" he scowled, raising his arm above his head, causing Rory to cower beneath him. He grit his teeth in anger, then, unable to control himself, brought it down on her. 

When she howled in pain and started sobbing, he glared at the ground and shook his head. "Well you're no longer my problem, little owl. Enough of Heimdall ordering me around to save these insignificant Midgardians whose lives last no longer than a measly insect's. Yes, I took this order, but it means in no way that I am devout to you. I will no longer be waiting on your hand and foot! I'm done being the good soldier, you can rot in here for all I care!" With that, he launched himself off the wall and stormed out of the empty room, leaving Rory to sink to the floor in a heap of confusion and distraught.

She held her head in her hands to hide the emptiness around her. She was entirely, indefinitely alone. There was nothing left for her but to cry over the mess her life had become, the mess her life had always been. From the start, she was cursed. And not even someone with good intentions could help her. The one person in her life who'd always been there for her. Now he was gone, too. Regret pummeled her head like hail on a window. _I'm never calling a dog Dave again._


	12. Chapter 12

# Upgrades, People

The headaches began with a simple knock to the door. Rory was crumpled on the floor, puffy eyes and a dry throat. Her right cheekbone stung and swelled. She'd cried a river, finally releasing the pent up emotions she'd bottled up over everything. The murders, losing her new family, disappointing Colby. She'd let it all out. 

It was funny, though. She thought she'd feel better after such a meltdown, but the mental pain was still there, the only thing that had changed was the physical pain she'd added to it. Rory's head was pounding as she raised her head to the door, which she was certain she'd just heard someone knock at.

Dread pummeled her skin. _Guard. It had to be a guard, who else could it be?_ Rory was destined to be restrained to a cell, there was no reason why she shouldn't be. She was a murderer, it was bound to happen. There was so much blood on her hands. 

The bed stood a few feet away from her. She stared at it through blurry eyes. Theoretically, she could hide behind it. But it only delayed the inevitable. And she couldn't see a point for that anymore. As she pushed her dark brown hair back, another knock came at the door. _Why is authority so polite here? If this were the police, they would've blasted the door open by now_. It spelled some doubt into her mind. She crawled to her feet and cleared her throat. _What do you even say to an Asgardian? What if it was the King?_ She bit her tongue. She hadn't had the best history with politeness around Asgardian royalty. _Why start now?_

"Yeah?" she croaked as she slowly crept towards the door. The stone floor created satisfying clapping sounds as she walked. The door slowly slipped open as she approached, and on the other side of it stood a stunning brunette in silver armour with a cautious look on her face. She looked around for a moment, then, surprised, her gaze landed upon the girl's. A dark eyebrow raised at the image in front of her. 

A brief moment floated between the two women where they stared blankly at each other. Then the confusion set in. The warrior was the first to speak. "Oh, I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting..." she hesitated, glancing at the girl before her with puffy red eyes and messy brown hair. A grey hoodie drowned her form, making her look like some sort of enigmatic owl beneath her feathers. She tilted her head, grasping for clues of where this stowaway might have come from. "Who are you?" the ethereal woman questioned in a polite British accent that soothed all of Rory's worries away.

Her smile warmed her face, "oh, I'm Rory. You are?"

"Sif," she answered reluctantly, "Lady Sif. What are you doing in here? This isn't your room," she pointed out and Rory fumbled. This was the last thing Sif had expected to happen to her today. Somehow she always managed to run into trouble, but she could usually source the root of all these sorts of things to Thor or his brother Loki... But this one seemed to have appeared right out of thin air. 

The small girl nodded and looked around. "Oh, yeah, I know. It's...sort of a long story. I'm not really sure where I'm meant to be."

Sif adjusted herself accordingly. _This strange girl_ , looking at her once more, she looked nothing like anyone she'd ever seen before. And Sif had traveled to a lot of places. But her clothes, the denim jeans, the trainers on her feet, the baggy hoodie. And her hair just hung...limp, she'd done less than the bare minimum for it. Looking closer, she noticed how bloodshot her eyes were, and a red mark beginning to appear on her cheek. _This poor little puny infant must've wandered in here after losing her parents. She must only be 100 years old or so..._ Pity filled her heart. "You must be lost," she sympathised, "what's your guardian's name? I will take you to them."

Rory looked around, trying to think of a name. It definitely won't be Colby. She began dancing between three names. Thor, Loki, or Heimdall, that man she'd met with briefly. And since neither Loki or Thor were here right now, Rory took a shot in the dark. "Do you know...Heimdall?" she questioned with a heightening ring to her tone.

Stiff silence embraced the conversation. Sif thought for a moment, furrowed brows and pursed lips. "Heimdall? I wasn't aware he was -" She observed her once more and saw the innocent look in her eyes. Even if Heimdall wasn't her guardian, he'd most likely know who she belonged to. To make the situation simpler, she decided against arguing. "Of course I know Heimdall. Come with me, I'll take you to him."

Relieved, Rory fled the room, happy to be away from it. She wiped her eyes as Sif led the way, making a detour to the stables to make travelling down the Bifrost that bit faster. Rory wasn't complaining, she got to ride on the back of a horse whilst Sif sat at the front. The view of the endless galaxies above her and the rainbow platform beneath mixed perfectly with the claps of horse hooves galloping along. It was the calmest she'd felt in a long time. For a moment, she did nothing but feel the wind on her face, finally being able to rely on the person with her. Whatever it was about Lady Sif, she couldn't help but feel safe. Maybe it was because she had a familiar accent, or a protective impression about her that made her feel so sheltered. Rory finally felt content for a moment, finally at home. Somehow, America seemed further away from her old home than this one.

The two of them arrived at the end of the Bifrost to meet with Heimdall, who already seemed to be expecting them. He walked from the platform with the sword on his back as he approached, a sorrowful look in his magnificent eyes. "Lady Sif, Rory, I'm pleased you're here," he noted which caused Rory to shift uncomfortably.

Sif smiled to him and down to Rory. "Sorry to disturb you, Heimdall. But this child here claims she knows you. She only looks 100 or so, I didn't want to leave her by herself especially when she doesn't know her way around..."

Rory's jaw dropped at that. _100?_ She couldn't tell if that was an insult or a complement. She turned to Heimdall who seemed to be holding back a humoured grin. "You did the right thing bringing her to me, Lady Sif. It seems one of my allies has fallen from the light, so she'll be under my protection until I can make other arrangements," he explained, resting his hand on Rory's back in assurance. It certainly sent a rush of warmth over her. She looked up to him and couldn't help but smile with appreciation. She'd never felt safer than with these two. Suddenly the gears in her head turned and she couldn't help but subconsciously begin to perceive them as her new parental figures. All she wanted to do was live for their constant validation and have them talk about the family drama every once and a while. _Is that what normal parents talk to you about?_ She didn't know, but she wanted it. 

"Oh, well, if all is well, then I should head back to my station," Sif mentioned, glancing back to Rory. She nodded to her. 

"Thanks for the help, Sif," Rory chirped, feeling as though she'd made a new friend. In her head, she was screaming for her to stay. _Would hugging her be too much? Damn, too late now, she's leaving._

When she'd left, Heimdall looked back out towards the galaxy again. Rory couldn't help but follow him, the view had never been so mesmerising. The hue of purples and blues mixed together in such a perfect symphony. "I'm deeply sorry about Colby. I never expected him to turn like that." She faced him and noticed her was staring at her cheek. He hadn't made it obvious at all, but she knew he'd looked. Her head fell.

"I'm used to it. But...what do I do now? Will you send me back to Earth?" 

"No," he smiled and began walking to the platform in the centre of the dome, "you're expecting company."

She furrowed her eyebrows and watched him with eagle eyes. "I am?" 

Heimdall shifted the sword into the slit and turned, causing the Bifrost to twist and attach a rainbow tunnel tilting downwards that somehow brought up two gods. Rory watched in awe at the two Asgardian princes landing swiftly on the edge of the Bifrost as though they'd simply jumped off a small brick wall. The two of them walked forwards like secret agents sauntering away from an explosion. _Clearly Asgardians have style._

Loki noticed the outsider immediately. Although, he didn't react the way she thought he would. Angered, vengeful, betrayed, anything other than what she saw on his face. She squinted her eyes. _Was that...concern?_ His eyebrows furrowed, eyes welled with the greenest of love. Relief. _Is that relief?_ He instantly moved towards her. "Rory!"

Rory's jaw dropped. _What the hell? That is concern on his face. He's coming at me full force. What did I do to deserve this love, I couldn't even get this from my own parents, now I'm getting it from an alien prince. Upgrades people, upgrades_. She took a step back as he reached her. "Loki, it's uh, good to see you," she offered as Thor hovered in her peripheral vision. _If he were a steam train, he'd be making that really annoying high pitched whistle right now_. Rory was trying to figure out which one was the eldest, since whoever's closer to the throne would probably have more power. And something was telling her it was Thor. _How are these two even related anyway? Their hair colour is almost polar opposite. One of these guys has to be adopted._

"Are you alright? What happened to Colby?" he questioned, the curiosity practically oozing from his mouth. Fear and worry ripped through his jaw and sunk its way into her. Rory had to bite her tongue to stop any unnecessary words from coming out of her mouth. He tried to reach into her eyes, and doing so, caught a glimpse of the mark Colby had made on her, a darkening patch of red on her skin. "Who did this to you?" he hissed with violence on his tongue. His thumb brushed over the injury lightly, but it was enough to catch her attention.

She shifted her gaze back over to Heimdall who was, at that moment, talking to Thor. Grateful for the distraction Heimdall was causing him, Rory focused her attention back onto Loki. She cleared her throat. "Colby didn't want to help me anymore," she expressed awkwardly, trying to avoid bringing up the name _Dave_ again. Heat rose to her cheeks. When she looked up again, she noticed Loki seething with rage. His gaze hardened and he seemed to look past her, fists and jaw clenched, knitted eyebrows. This was someone who meant to do harm. Instinctively, she moved away.

"Where is he now?" he asked unspeakably quietly. If space were to have a small breeze, Loki's voice would've been carried away in it. 

Rory widened her eyes. This was one of those moments. She could see it now. They came around very rarely, yet this month seemed to be full of them. Another person's fate in her hands. She thought for a moment. Colby did spend most of her life protecting her. She wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. He'd spent countless years on her, resetting the spell, keeping her out of danger. She couldn't exactly blame him now for wanting to leave her after putting up with her shit for so long. He'd done better than any of her past friends. She looked down. There was no way she could tell him. 

For a moment, silence filled her world. Emptiness was left to fill her void. Thoughts of Colby made her realise that she'd really had no one to talk to all of these years. Her one and only friend had practically been paid to stay with her. A fake. There on oath, not love or loyalty. Her heart wrenched. If Dave wasn't real, what else in her life wasn't? The very area around her flipped over like a dining room table. She began to question everything. And just as the very foundations of how she lived came crumbling down, two fingers slipped beneath her chin and raised her up. She met eyes with those concerned green ones again, so full of emotion, like tears on the edge of falling, a heart close to breaking, legs about to give way. She saw in him what she'd been harbouring for years. And in that pain, a soul connection. They could almost speak through wavelengths. He could've reached right in through her eyes and cherry picked the thoughts he craved. The thoughts he needed to hear. And she almost gave them willingly.

He begged those words once again, through a hushed whisper. "Rory, where is he?"

This time, she got a grip. "What does it matter?" The veil ripped away immediately. Loki's expression vanished, just a mere residue of confusion left. "He left me, so what? They always do. You're not my dad, this isn't primary school. You can't just call in at his house and complain to his mum about how much of a bad friend he's been," she lectured him, gaining back that wall she'd laid down so well before. Loki stepped back, alarm dancing in his thin eyes. "I spent my whole life thinking I had at least one friend in the world. Someone I could rely on, but I didn't even have that. It's almost fitting, isn't it? I never deserved him anyway, he should've run off years ago. Just forget it, I'm not worth it. Tell Thor he can drag me back to hell and stick me in a prison cell for the rest of my life, there's no place I'd rather be."

Somehow, space had never looked so warm. Rory could see it calling her over from the corner of her eye. In here, on the Bifrost, the air chilled her skin. She couldn't imagine space might be any better, but those stars twinkling out in the night sky, they meant for something. A part of her wished she could be a star. The more there were, the prettier they seemed. 

Loki reached out to her, "Rory, you shouldn't think so little of yourself. What Colby did to you was vile. He shouldn't have taken you from Earth only to leave you stranded in a place you know nothing of," he pleaded with raw emotion on his tongue. He stared once more at the mark on her cheek, "he'll pay for this," he growled. As he spoke, Rory slowly lifted her gaze back up towards him and he caught her eyes. She became trapped in his demand for the truth. There was something so compelling about how he asked for something without the use of his voice. "You don't belong to a cell, Rory. Neither do I." He glanced away for a moment, making sure Thor was still distracted. Then he turned back to her and asked with his eyes once more. Rory fell prey to that look. 

"Only you know the truth of what happened that night," she uttered under her breath, more to herself than anyone else. The rest of the Avengers would have their speculations, but only Loki saw her for what she was, for what she did. He nodded his head slowly. With a reluctant sigh, she nodded her head. "What are you planning?"

"You need not concern yourself with it," Loki spoke softly, "just tell me where he is."

Rory shook her head. "I don't know. I just want to go home." Her head sunk at that. The world was an endless oyster. It held connections of infinite possibilities. And yet Rory had cut all of her ties with everyone. She had no home. She had no place in the world.

Loki turned away from her to confront Heimdall, but Rory couldn't care. Thor was watching her now. She didn't care about that, either. He could throw her across the Cosmos and she wouldn't blink. The pain in her chest numbed the feeling in her brain and the tears in her eyes faded. 

### 

"Where did they go?" Bruce asked in shock, staring up at the sky as if he could still see their bodies flying to space in the distance. Now that the imminent threat was out the way, the remaining Avengers weren't entirely sure what to do.

Tony made a nonchalant face and patted Bruce's shoulder, "I don't know, but there's no way we can follow them up there."

"So, what do we do?" Natasha called over, taking her hand down from over her eyes. 

Turning from the team, Tony watched cautiously as a car in the near distance, that quickly turned into five as they grew nearer, sped towards them. "Alright Avengers, or what's left of us, put on your game faces. We got company and I think I know who they're here for." With that, the Iron Man helmet clasped over his face and he flew up from the ground whilst Natasha and Clint got in front of Bruce. Steve waited on guard for the jet black SHIELD vehicles to park up and unload their teams who all promptly got into position with their weapons pointed. 

Maria Hill stepped out of the car like a stylish runway model, staring straight at Natasha, who was guarding Bruce like an angry dog. "Okay, I'm giving you one last chance to do the right thing, all of you," she threatened, glaring through the soldiers like they were misbehaving children. "You're gonna tell me what you did with the prisoners, you're gonna turn over Banner, and you're gonna stay under cover for the next few days. The news broadcasts are getting involved now, and that's not something we need," she barked, hoping it'd knock some sense into them, but the only person who really moved was Steve. 

"Alright everyone, just take it easy. We can talk this out like civilians," Steve reminded his team, holding his arms out like it would steady the others who watched him cautiously. 

Clint was the first to disagree. He pulled his bow out and thrust it in the air so it unfolded properly. "Not this time, Cap." He turned to Maria, "you already took my kid, I can't let you take a friend, too," he growled to which Bruce nervously smiled at, realising he'd just been labelled as a friend. 

Maria eyed him slowly. "Barton, think about what you're doing. Remember whose side you're on." The bright blue sky overloaded with clouds that floated in from nowhere. They seemed to be the witness to this battle. Blocking the sun from shining over any of the participators. 

"No offense, ma'am, but given the fact that you stole my kid from me, it's not yours." He reached back and pulled out an arrow, slowly placing it into position to shoot. With that, he glanced over to Natasha who was already readying herself for a fight. 

Hill matched his threatening demeanour. "She was a dangerous convict. She had to be taken in, Clint. There was no other way." The breeze began to pick up on the tension and swept through her hair. Small wisps began to blow across her skin like warning signals over her eyes.

Clint shook his head in disagreement, clenching his teeth, "she was just a kid. Now we'll never see her again." A pang of hurt fell over him as those words left his mouth. He hadn't said it aloud before, and now he had they seemed to be set in stone. The chance of ever seeing Rory again seemed to be diminishing hour by hour. _She's just a kid. She needs a protector not a prison guard. I just need to see her again, tell her it's gonna be okay._

"Why won't you see her again, Barton? Where is she? What have you done with her?" Maria yelled over the wind, now growing more and more urgent. She needed information, not a full blown fight with the Avengers. Glancing back, she signaled one of the agents to call for backup. They were going to need all the help they could get.

Barton continued to shake his head, unable to force anymore words out of his mouth. He aimed one of his arrows at a SHIELD agent and shot, leaving them falling to the floor. "That's your warning. Retreat now and there'll be no more casualties. _Think about what you're doing_ ," he echoed back at her, glaring with knives for eyes.

Natasha stealthily looked over at him. "You think that was the best decision?" she murmured, reaching for her tasers. 

Clint shook his head bitterly, "they left me no other choice."


End file.
